Oracular Spectacular
by Bitchii-Usa
Summary: Vegeta is visited one evening by a beautiful woman, claiming to possess gifts to help him battle his foes. AU. Mature themes ahead. Written for the February 2017 Smutfest Day #2, hosted by The Prince and the Heiress community
1. Chapter 1

_**Smutfest Day 2: Masturbation Oracular Spectacular**_

 _ **oooOooo**_

The elongated hallway was cast in dark shadows, green light flickering off of the walls, creating an eerie atmosphere that made Prince Vegeta smile in delight. This was his favorite part of his spacious castle, and walking down the ominous corridor gave him the peace that only washed over him at the end of a long day. Training was exhausting, as usual, and there was nothing he was more fixated on then taking a hot bath. He wanted to scrub the anger and shame that littered him, clinging to the very fibers cast over his skin, reminding him of working with Frieza. Despite his father's coaxing words of approval on the recent merger with the Colds, Vegeta couldn't stand the partnership he was forced to have with Frieza. It left a bitter taste on his tongue, as if he dipped it in acid to cause himself torment, and he hated the fact that he had little choice in the matter. The Saiyans were running low in resources that the Colds could supply, and their agreement was necessary.

Vegeta grit his teeth and ran his fingers through his midnight stained hair, the clacking of his boots against the marbled floors growing heavier. He tried to push past the idea of what could happen with working with them could potentially mean. It was everything about them that was unnerving. Their plastered smiles on their alien faces, their eyes a contradiction to their otherwise friendly nature. A black shadow loomed over them, thick and sinister and deadly, and Vegeta wondered how his father hadn't choked on the poisonous aura yet.

He reached his chambers and pushed open the black iron doors, a vicious snarl curling over his lips. The more he let the Colds infiltrate his mind, the more deadly his anger became. Vicious. He was a rabid dog on the inside, one who was barely being restrained in his neck squeezing leash.

A candle was lit in his private chambers, making him cease in his tracks. Someone was here. His defenses heightened , his breath becoming as silent as the night that stole the outside. The way his anger danced in his chest, he would rip the head off of anyone who dared enter this evening.

He moved stealthily through the hallway leading to his bedroom, his eyes cutting into dangerous slits. He stood just outside of the oval framed door, his figure drowning in darkness, his senses keen.

Dainty feet dangled off of his bed as he looked inside, the flesh paler than any he had seen, and he raised an eyebrow in question. His eyes traveled upwards, finding the feet to be attached to shapely set of legs, the skin as creamy as fresh milk. A woman's. His breathing returned to normal as his eyes settled. So she wasn't Frieza or one of his minions, then. Good. Vegeta would not push the notion that Frieza wanted him dead, and would sneak into the Prince's chambers personally to do so.

He entered the room swiftly, yet cautiously, and let his eyes roam over her. At his entrance, her gaze turned to him, her sparkling eyes carefully looking over him, her lips in a surprised pout. By all standards he would call her odd, with her lack of a tail and her strange hair, color of aqua. She wasn't a Saiyan, if her soft features had anything to say about it, a sharp contrast to his own. He could feel his muscles in his face tighten as he burned his gaze into hers, crossing his arms.

"What are you doing here in my chambers, female?" His voice was low, tight. Dangerous. He expected her to cower at his practiced menacing tone, but instead she sat up, her eyes clear of any emotion.

"I've been sent to you, Prince Vegeta," she said, her accent foreign to his, her pronunciation of the common tongue melodic and soft. "A gift, of sorts."

"Tell me who sent you. " He clipped his words, removing any inflation of his tone. He had tried not to, but there was no ignoring her curves as they spilled over his mauve fur throw, practically naked. A thin material covered her, the fabric colored in copper and yellow gold, and he could almost see the pinks of her nipples. He needed to find out information from her first, and not immediately get lost in her pretty features.

"It's a secret," she brought a finger to her pouty lips, pursing them slightly, as her eyes raked over him, "I've been told not to tell."

"I don't care what you've been told, I demand to know why you're here." He felt his arousal diminish as he listened to her disobedience of his request, his jaw clenching. If she wanted to play games with him, then his patience with her was limited.

She chuckled lowly, playfully, almost as if she were purring, and rose to her knees, resting her weight on them. Her heavy breasts were pushed together and pressed forward, a gesture of enticing on her part, and she bit her bottom lip shyly, running her finger over her lip. "I was told that you were a real hard ass. That you take a lot of convincing. And I like a challenge."

A hard ass.

Did she want to die?

Vegeta felt the heat of his anger coil in his belly, ready to throw his hands around the slender neck if this woman. She had the audacity to insult _him_? She was bold. A fool, but bold.

She neared the edge of the bed and brought her feet down, her eyes never breaking their intense contact with his. She slowly traced her gaze along his figure, and either she was trained well, or she was admiring him with her eyes. Of which he didn't know, but it was making him slightly uncomfortable.

"You know," she said, meeting his eyes again, "I can make you relax. I was told to make sure I make you as comfortable as possible." She walked sensually over him, her thick thighs moving hypnotically over the other slowly, teasing him with the sashay of her hips. The fabric moved lightly over her skin, giving him a good look at her ample breasts and smooth stomach, the front dangling right over her most private of parts.

She approached him, licking her lips and brushing the bangs out of her eyes. Her hair was short, stopping right over her shoulders, cut in a way to emphasize the attractive features of her face. She ran a finger over his breastplate, tracing the outline of the Royal Saiyan crest that sat right over his heart, and he felt threatened.

"My, my," she whispered, her eyes drawing slowly up his, "You sure are handsome." Her eyes locked in with his, and he became bothered at what they demanded from him. It was as if he were looking into another world, a space and time that did not exist in this galaxy of hell, a world where he was still a young boy and the promise of tomorrows gave him a blissful thrill. It made his mouth dry up, and his brain caused an alarm, warning him to stop her treachery and take control.

He grabbed her wrist tightly, a small yelp escaping her lips, and pulled her close. "Don't you ever touch me without permission, " he said in a deep voice, full of venom. "You are a whore. Behave like one."

Her eyes lit into a flame of fire as she tried to snatch her wrist away, failing to break away from his iron grip. "I am not a whore," she bit sharply, "I have never fucked for any sort of exchange."

His grip tightened as he smirked at her, his expression twisting into a cold. "You're in my chambers and offering me the space in between your legs. Because someone asked you to do so. If that does not make you a whore, than what does?"

Her fire simmered, and she tried to cover her irritation with a porcelain smile. "You're right, my Prince," she said in a poised voice, "I apologize for my slip." Her sultry demeanor returned, although this time slightly unconvincing.

"Who _are_ you?" His tone indicated that he did not buy her cover up, and he squeezed harder on her wrist, feeling her fragile bones bend under his heavy grasp. She moaned in pain and tried to yank free, but he only pulled her closer. "I will ask again, who _are_ you?"

She looked at him hesitantly, the mask of sex dissolving from her features. "My name is Bulma," she admitted.

"Bulma," he let her name roll off of his tongue, sounding as unique as she looked. A perfect fitting. "And why are you here?"

She opened her mouth to speak, and he brought his finger to her chin , gripping it tightly. "Make whatever words that come out of your mouth be the truth. If I suspect you are lying, I will snap your neck."

He had to give her credit for her bravery, her expression never folding. But the thumping of her heart gave her fear away, and it excited him. The dice was being rolled in his favor.

"Frieza sent me as a gift to you," she said, her irises burning with the truth, "as a final merger gift of your planets."

"I see," he said coldly. So she was a spy from Frieza, probably meant to slice his throat as he spilled himself on her. Instantly, he wrapped his hand around her throat. "Then there's no reason for you to live."

"Please," she begged, clawing against his the fabric of his sleeve, "I've come to help you."

He grit his teeth at her, wondering what the hell she meant. Help him? How could a wore help a Prince?

"Please," she begged, throwing her hands around his wrists, her eyes watering. As their skin touched, a blinding light infiltrated Vegeta vision, and suddenly the room and the woman were a blur.

New images invaded his mind and his mouth went slack. A dead body that resembled his father's. Frieza standing on the balcony of the castle, King Cold at his side. Saiyans in chains, even the children, bloody and broken. "What…what is this?"

' _The Future._ ' Her voice smoothed over the images he was seeing, his people rising against Frieza and falling to their deaths, misery etched on their faces.

"What are you?" He asked again, this time in wonderment.

' _I am Bulma, as I have told you, Prince Vegeta. I am the last survivor of the planet of the Seers."_

"The Seers…"

" _Listen to me. This is the only way I can communicate with you. Frieza has captured me and is listening to our audio as I speak. If you don't rise against him now, your planet will meet the same fate as mine. He has his eyes on Vegetasai next, and he sent me here undoubtedly to make you trust him before hand. He tricked my father, who was the king of my own planet."_

"I knew it." He grit his teeth at the information, feeling irate. Shame washed over him as he admitted, "I can't beat him. Our strengths are too vast."

" _I can help you. I possess gifts you wouldn't dream of."_

"Why did you seek me out, female?"

" _Because you are the one I've been looking for. The one from my vision."_

He swallowed thickly. What the hell was this he was seeing? She had begun to flash him images of her own planets demise, her father buried beneath burning rubble, her planet exploding to a colorful purple as it painted the galaxy in fireworks.

" _Please, Prince Vegeta. We don't have a lot of time. He will get suspicious if I take too long. I can meet you outside of his watchful eye, but I need to convince him that I have done as he's asked?"_

"How so?" Vegeta demanded, upset that he couldn't get answers immediately.

" _Use me for what I was sent for. Otherwise he will consider me a failure and dispose of me."_

The golden lights of the room rushed toward him, and his conscience was back in his bedroom, his hands still clasped around her wrist and neck. He allowed her to breathe and she swallowed precious breaths of air.

His mind was clouded with various dilemmas. Frieza _was_ a traitorous bastard, then? And what gifts did this woman possess to help him?

And more importantly, where did he fit in with her visions ?

"Vegeta," she whispered in a hushed tone, speaking so lowly that he could barely hear her, "What I said to you in the vision." She pleaded with her eyes and he understood.

She was asking him to fuck her to appease Frieza.

He threw her to the bed, the fabric sliding off of her flesh, exposing a full breast. He sat in his plush velvet chair across the bed, leaning back in the chair. He watched her confused expression, her blue brow tilted upwards.

The sight of her breast made his imagination begin to wander. She was beautiful, exotic, drastically different than the muscular Saiyan women he encountered daily. No wonder Frieza had imprisoned her, if he were purging a planet, he would keep her as a prize as well.

But he couldn't bring himself to fuck her. For starters, his mind was swimming with the information she had given to him. And she had lied to Frieza to come here, pretending to be on his side. Why should he think that she was loyal to him, and she wasn't trying to trick him as well?

He would oblige in her requests, in his own way. He needed her to live another day, so that he could gather answers from her as promised.

"I need to see if you can earn the Prince's cock," he said huskily, convincingly. He smirked at her, and added, "I want you to fuck yourself."

She stared at him expressionless, wary of his sudden change. He nodded in her direction, his eyes laced with desire, and she couldn't tell if he feigned it. He gestured his hand towards her, "Get on with it, female."

She continued her gaze in his direction, and he was about to scare her with his iced words when a dainty hand covered her breasts, pulling gently on her nipple.

"Like this?" she purred, her voice waltzing in his ears, oozing with sensuality. He nodded, and she removed the fabric robe, a hesitation briefly flashing across her features. He nodded, watching her unveil her neglected breast, her perk nipple hardened at the cool air.

She gasped as she tugged on the other nipple, her hands cupping her breasts as she stared at him. Her hand wandered over her stomach, moving the expensive looking fabric out of the way to reveal a neat patch of blue hair, the same hue as the hairs on her pretty little head, and Vegeta was surprised at how curious he was at where her hand was going to go next. He had stopped breathing, he realized, as a finger dipped in between her lips, playing with the skin that hid what he _really_ wanted to see.

He hadn't expected to be drawn into her, but it was hard to look away from her lidded gaze, her eyes sparkling like sapphires, her lips parted as she gasped. Her creamy thighs were begging to be touched, and she opened them further so he could look at her fully.

"What do you think, Prince Vegeta?" she opened her lips with two of her fingers, revealing the pinkest pussy Vegeta had ever seen, slick with her juices. So she was already turned on, just from squeezing her breasts? Vegeta cock ached dully as he wondered what else turned her on. He didn't like that he was being thrown off guard at the sight of her, but Vegeta was a man, and a beautiful woman was running her finger in tight circles over her clit, and he was becoming lost in the haze of his own lust.

A honey laced moan spilled from her pretty lips, her hand moving faster against her swollen nub. She was soft and fragile, making the whole experience seem poetic to him, as if he were looking at a painting over his father's desk, one that he wasn't allowed to touch.

He wanted to disrobe and mount her, ram into her until she spoke songs of his name, give Frieza a real show. But he was stuck to the chair, his gaze not diverting from her ivory hand rubbing herself.

"Stick a finger inside of you," he said, his tone more aroused than he intended, "I told you to fuck yourself. "

Her eyes hardened like marbles, cursing him without words, and he smirked at how much her reaction enticed him. He had the feeling if they were not being listened in on, she would have choice words for him.

Instead she oblidged, opening her legs further as a finger slipped in the center of her core, gliding in easily. The sounds that came from her flesh meeting her wetness was maddening to him, eliciting a low growl that emerged in the pit of his chest. She threw her head back as she slowly stroked herself, her other hand grabbing her right breast.

Her tiny moans filled the air in intervals as she explored herself, lowering her head to look at Vegeta heated stare. She looked down briefly, bringing her eyes back up to smile at him. Without realizing it, his hand was reaching for his stiff cock, his bulge pressing heavily against the fabric of his pants.

"Here," she mewled, "let me help you with that." She stuck another finger inside of her wet pussy, stretching herself further and she groaned at the intrustion. Bulma moved her fingers faster, her breathing becoming heavier. Panted.

Vegeta fought with himself to not spill himself in front of her, not wanting her to think he was enjoying her. But he was. He enjoyed seeing the her honey begin to pool under her butt as her fingers slammed into her core, her moans growing louder and less apart. "Oh, Prince Vegeta," she breathed, "did you want me to do it like this?"

Fuck.

 _Fuck._

She moved in and out of herself with such fluidity that Vegeta was barely containing his erection. Never had he wanted to bite into fruit so badly, never had he wanted to fuck the brains out of a woman like he did right now. And then she asked him if he liked it, like it mattered. This was to keep her in Frieza good graces, but damn it all if she wasn't making him feel otherwise.

"Oh my god," her voice became light and airy, her hand movements quickening, her cheeks flushing. She rest her attention on Vegeta, rocking her hips suggestively. She looked at him like she was his prey and wanted to be captured. He held her gaze, slightly embarrassed at how much he loved looking at her, and her body convulsed, the quake of an orgasm beginning to rupture inside of her.

She gasped, panting and moaning as her bottom lip fell, her eyes still in an intense show down with Vegeta. He had never seen anything more hypnotizing. She shuddered as she let out one last moan, throaty and drawn out, her body freezing in her movements. She slowly removed her fingers, revealing them to be wet with her arousal , and smiled, catching her breath.

Vegeta was about to explode in his pants, the need to have her overriding his senses. What was this oracle of a woman? Was she trying to help him or tease him?

Bulma dressed herself in her fabric, her pebbled nipples pushing through the sheer material. She stood, smiling at him. "Should I meet you in your quarters tomorrow night?"

Vegeta nodded slowly, unable to find the words that wouldn't betray him. "I will send for you. Perhaps we shall have a fuck under the moon, " he narrowed his eyes, hoping she saw through his words.

She nodded in response, walking over to him. She bent down to his cheek, kissing it lightly before whispering in his ear: "I'll be looking forward to it, my Prince."

She walked to the iron doors and slipped through, only the smell of her arousal and the throbbing bulge in his pants any indication that she was here.

He ran his fingers down his chiseled face and sighed. So much had been thrown on him this evening, and now he had to figure out how to handle everything, and if he could even trust the blue haired seer.

He would allow himself to marinate over it as he bathed, after he spilled himself free of her temptation.

OooOooo

 _ **This was written for The Prince and The Heiress February 2017 Smutfest Day 2: Masturbation.**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Smutfest Day 3: Spanking| ORACULAR SPECTACULAR**_

oooOooo

Vegeta roamed through the crowded dining hall, ignoring the rambunctious yells of the Saiyans devouring their foods and groping the women. This was all a shit show to him, when a bigger, more pressing matter was sleeping underneath the joyous party.

The root of the impending madness sat on a throne overlooking the massive dinner, drinking wine from a goblin- _Vegeta's_ goblin- and pressing his ugly purple lips into a tight smile, a wicked gleam in his eye. It made the prince's stomach churn with disgust.

Bulma had told him that the dinner party would be the first pillar where they could strike. Or rather, she showed him, pressing her warm hands to his cheeks as she let the visions flow through her petite fingers. Even though their secret meetings were ones of plotting and treachery, Vegeta found himself beginning to look forward to the last moon in the sky, when she would be tossed in his chambers, under the rouse that she was his personal whore, his favorite among Frieza's playthings. It unnerved him how he lost himself in her eyes, her irises reminding him of planets his mother had pointed out to him as a babe on her knee, and it gave him feelings that he was sure made him less of a Saiyan. He would never admit it out loud, and he was glad he could hide behind the act of solely requiring her sexual services.

"Attention, my friends," Frieza stood up from his chair, smiling a little too pristine at the Saiyans below him, "in honor of your King Vegeta's name year, I have a little gift for him! And for you all!" He snapped his fingers as two of his personal servants looped behind the thick red curtain.

Vegeta felt his heart beat a little faster at Frieza announcement. He had not seen this in Bulma's vision. She had shown him the party, the boisterous music and problematic Saiyans, the sound of an alarm and a whisper in Frieza's ear. Then he saw the Icejin leave, heading to a pod and disappearing into the ink stained sky, departing to his home planet under the impression it was being attacked.

Bulma had warned him that her visions were not absolute, and any variable could change her version of the future. Their initial meeting had been impromptu, for starters, and she had told him in her previous vision they had shared a nightcap before she told him the truth. Vegeta's unstable mood had changed that course, however.

He was brought out of his thoughts as the servants wheeled around a cart, a woman on her knees in the center, shackled around her ankles and wrists. His eyes widened as he drank in the blue hair that fell over her forehead, her mystic eyes pressed to the ground.

 _Bulma._

His feet moved at a slow pace towards her, for reasons that he had not grounded in his mind, and he felt the undying urge to take her naked body away from the lustful gazes of the Saiyan elite, their hands grabbing their cocks at the sight of her full breasts and curvy waist. His anger coiled through him like a venomous snake, ready to sink his fangs into them all for their disrespectful stares.

Only he should be able to feast upon her beauty like that.

Almost on cue, her head rose up slowly, her eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on his, a message swimming through :

' _It's alright.'_

Vegeta stopped in his tracks, unable to even nod at her. His eyes couldn't help but to rake over her figure, but a heavy weight pressed in his stomach about how the whole thing seemed so _wrong._

Frieza chuckled an innocent sound, as if he were merely offering them a second helping of meat, and ran his disgusting finger through a lock of her tresses. "This little creature was _dying_ to be the main attraction at this festivity. Look at her, she looks like she's _begging_ for punishment. "

His words carried a weight that made Vegeta's heart sting. What the hell was this bastard up to?

Frieza gripped her chin and forcefully tilted her head upwards, making her stare into the hungry eyes of the warriors below. Vegeta felt his defenses heighten as their blood thirst skyrocketed, posing an immense danger.

"When I told her that I would be hosting a party for the King of the greatest warriors in the galaxy, she begged me to let them use her as necessary. Isn't that right, my pet?"

Bulma said nothing, although Vegeta recognized that glimmer of rebellion in her eyes. Frieza laughed darkly at her insolence. He looked over at King Vegeta who was staring at Bulma with a haunting thirst, his canines curling over his teeth. Since the death of the Queen, Vegeta knew it had been far too long since his father had laid eyes on a female. Especially one as exquisite as the woman before him.

Frieza's cold glare found its way to Vegeta, making the prince halt his breath.

"So, King Vegeta," Frieza said in that effeminate voice of his, "do you want to show the girl how _powerful_ the strength of a Saiyan elite is?"

Fuck.

Vegeta watched as his father stood, his tail twitching with arousal and dominance, making his slow strides over to Bulma. Her eyes were fearful, as if something had gone even further amiss, and Vegeta felt the urgency to intervene. If the King was allowed to act under the abandonment of his acquired moralistic nature and completely dive into his roots of a Saiyan man, Bulma might die.

Was _that_ Frieza's goal? To spite Vegeta?

"Father!" Vegeta marched desperately to the elevated stage, causing all eyes to fall on him. "I would like to do the honors."

King Vegeta looked at his son questionably. "Prince Vegeta, this is my gift from our friend. It would be rude to turn down such a generous offer."

"Hold on, King Vegeta," Frieza raised a hand in the air, a ghost of a smile playing on his thin lips. His face was painted in fascination as he watched the prince, his eyes narrowing in possibilities. "I believe it custom for an heir to prove he can rule the Saiyans, is it not? Why not let your son have the first round? I do have other playthings you know," he smiled crazily at Vegeta, a grin laced with secrets, and turned to the king. "I insist."

King Vegeta looked…. _afraid?_... at Frieza's requests, albeit skeptical, and glared at his son. He knew not to challenge Frieza's insistence, so he sat down, unable to mask the irritation that seeped into the lines of his face.

"Come now, Prince Vegeta, and put on a good show for us."

Vegeta swallowed and nodded subtly at Bulma, who's eyes were shining with tears under Frieza's deadly grip. He yanked his hand away as Vegeta neared, the room shadowed in silence.

Vegeta burned his eyes into hers, spilling promises that he never expected to give anyone, even if they never stained his lips. She was putting some sort of spell on him, making him the hero when he preferred the role of villain. Revolting. And yet he continued his walk, thinking of a solution.

He stepped up on the platform, eyes dark and hardened, a direct contrast from his rapidly beating heart. He needed to save her while still appeasing Frieza. And he had to work impossibly fast in doing so.

He rounded her naked body, her skin growing red around her tight restraints. Her head dropped so that she didn't have to look at him and he understood. One look from him would ruin the entire cover, and even he couldn't stomach that.

"Beat the bitch! " A brute from the back yelled, cupping his hand around his mouth.

"Smack her tit! Let's see if it's as jiggly as it looks! "

"Make the whore whimper Prince Vegeta! In both ways! "

"SILENCE! " Vegeta let his eyes scan the crowd angrily, shutting their jeers up. He needed to think, and fast.

"If she's not what you're looking for, I can obliterate her for you," Frieza sounded bored, "there's no need to waste your time, Prince Vegeta."

Goddamn this asshole. Frieza was growing pleasure in dangling Bulma on a rope in front of him, like Vegeta was a fish in his bowl of bullshit. And even if Frieza was doing it because he falsely thought Vegeta was so taken with her, it still churned with irritation in his belly.

Vegeta stopped at her backside, rubbing his gloved hand down her smooth back. She was soft, even through the layers of thick glove, and he wished in that moment they were elsewhere. He pretended he had her power so that he could show her his plan, albeit a fickle one.

Testing the waters, he ran his palm over the curves of her ass, palming her succulent cheeks, his mind swimming in fantasies. He had to control his desire, but it was hard with her so close, her arousal so near to his bulging cock.

Removing his hand from her skin, he brought it back to her skin with enough force to make her holler in pain, but not enough to hurt her. He would buy time by gradually 'tormenting ' her.

But when his palm met her ass, smacking against her flesh with restrained ferocity, Bulma let out a cry that was far from what he expected. It was a delicious sort of wail, one that enjoyed it, begged for more. Was she breaking character, or was it merely a slip of the tongue?

He mimicked his actions again, if not for more than his own curiosity, as the world around him blew out like a candle, illuminating only he and her. His hand palmed her round cheek as it made contact, a groan spilling from his lips. Just as the first time, a needy plea arose from deep within her, smoothing over his ears. He grabbed her other neglected cheek, leaning slightly over her as he smacked the other one, and she giggled as she moaned, turning her head slightly over her shoulder so that she looked at him.

So. Fucking. Beautiful.

Her fluffy lashes kissed her cheeks as she gasped, and he realized his hand had lowered, ghosting across her labia. Did she enjoy that? He was curious. He ran a finger over her slit, smiling at how wet she felt. Was that because of him? So it was not an act. The revelation made his cock throb with want, and he wondered what would happen if he smacked her harder-

"Prince Vegeta! "

Frieza's irate voice pierced through his fantasy, and only then did Vegeta realize what he was doing and who he was doing it in front of. The Saiyans look confused and angry as they watched the show, while some had dug in their pants and fumbled with their erections, no doubt at the songs that came from the siren in his grasp.

"She doesn't seem like she's in _pain_ , " Frieza grit through his teeth, his eyes narrowed, "rather it seems like she's _enjoying_ it."

Vegeta's mouth went slack as he struggled to find a rebuttal, but the words tangled in the back of his throat, burning his tongue. He looked at Bulma, her face gone rigid with panic, and clenched his teeth. Shit. He had gotten so caught up in his own desires he abandoned the mission.

"I was getting to that, " he bit out finally, "I will make her scream. " Under which connotation he meant that, he wasn't sure.

"No need, " Frieza brought up his finger, his jaw tensed, "she's not very much entertainment. And I'm sure your people want to be entertained." A purple glow emitted from his finger tip as he aimed it in the space between her forehead.

"V-Vegeta…" she whispered, a lone tear escaping her eye. It made his heart fold with a foreign emotion, and he decided that he did not like to see her like that.

Perhaps he would have to fight Frieza prematurely.

"Lord Frieza!" A small alien walked briskly to the Icejin, his face in a panic.

"Not now, Appule."

"But your grace… " Appule bent down to Frieza and whispered something in his ear, and Vegeta watched as his face contorted into rage. His red eyes dilated frantically, and he cursed in a mumble.

"Take Bulma back to the quarters and shackle her. I will deal with that when I return." His eyes turned to her threateningly before he focused on the king.

"It seems like I have urgent business to attend to, King Vegeta. I am sorry to leave. "

"It is quite alright, Frieza. Duty calls. "

Frieza nodded, losing the battle of keeping a smile on his face and turned to leave them, not bothering to look back.

Appule turned to them, his greedy eyes narrowing on Bulma. She glared at him before turning sharply towards Vegeta, her expression determined.

Her pillowed lips parted slightly and she settled her eyes on him.

"Now!"

OooOooo

 _ **A/N**_

 _ **This piece was written for The Prince and the Heiress February 2017 Vegebul Smutfest Day #3: Spanking**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Smutfest Day #4: Role Play| Oracular Spectacular**_

 _ **oooOooo**_

The white stars of the sky zoomed in and out of their spacious window of their space pod, and Bulma pressed her body against the glass, her mouth open in awe.

Vegeta watched her out of the corner of his eye, pretending not to care as he crossed his arms and let the night envelope him. The stars danced across her irises, making them shine an impossible shade of blue, almost as if they were unreal. He tried to ignore the sensation that swam in his belly at the ethereal sight of her, but the more he tried to fight it the harder he stared. He clenched his jaw and tore his gaze away, reprimanding himself.

"You know," Bulma cut through the silence, a warmth layering her words, "I used to look at the stars all the time when I was little." She pressed a dainty finger against the thick opaque glass, her breath ghosting an imprint. "That star pattern is called _Elantra_. It means 'the mother's womb.'"

Vegeta found his gaze wandering where she was pointing to, his eyes settling on a star so bright it burned his eyes.

"My father once told me that all stars are born in _Elantra,_ and all stars die in that pattern over there," her finger skidded across the pane, Vegeta's onyx eyes along with it, "called _Otuli_. That means 'the cursed breath. '"

"Why are you telling me this?" The question escaped Vegeta's lips before he had any chance to reflect, and he found himself staring at her once more.

She shrugged, her attention still drawn to the galaxy before her, her face illuminated with various colors of silvers and turquoises. "I guess I was just speaking out loud and you just so happened to be here. I miss looking at them." Her tone turned dismal, and Vegeta watched as her fingers curled against the glass, her plump lips setting into a tight line. "Its hard to see anything beautiful when Frieza's suffocating you into his ugly world."

Something in her phrase made him almost feel sorry for her, but he swallowed it down before the feeling could poison him further. "Speaking of which," he kept his tone controlled, "what is our window of opportunity in gaining the upper hand on Frieza? "

"We have about two days, maybe a little bit more." She finally turned to him, smiling discreetly as if he would punish her if he noticed, "You bought us more time by getting rid of his army. I didn't expect you to be _that_ strong."

He kept his expression casual as he let her words soak in, although inside his pride was thumping along with his heart beat. Vegeta had never felt power surge in him like he had when he killed every member of the Icejin's army on Vegetesai. Frieza had always boasted on how his army was seemingly undefeatable, and yet Vegeta ripped their heads from their bodies as if they were mere dolls. It was a maddening hunger that he hadn't known existed, and he wondered if defeating Frieza would offer the same accolades.

His father was furious, even after Vegeta had tried to explain _why_ he was on a rampage, all out telling him that Frieza was not to be trusted. It seemed that King Vegeta was angrier at the fact that his Saiyan son had protected a whore, a _foreign_ whore at that. Vegeta felt the shame and reason curl over him as he listened to his father's rant, and he tried to convince himself that she was an ally who could unlock his strength and nothing more. Either way, his father did not try to intervene when Vegeta raced to the space pods, pulling Bulma by the wrist with him.

"Hey," she reached over and grabbed his forearm, squeezing his muscles lightly, "you okay?"

He stared at her hand and the odd warmth it produced, deciding to let it rest there rather than to tell her to move, and nodded. "You're certain that this mission will end with my ascension? "

Her smile widened, genuinely confident, and she nodded in return. "I'd stake my life on it. The only way to beat Frieza is to become the legendary. And the only way to rise to that magnitude of power is to see _Onra_."

" _Onra_?" The name did not sound as natural as she had said when it rolled from his tongue, his accent not as precise as hers. "You didn't speak of an _Onra_."

"She is the grand priest of all Seers. Her planet is an isolated one, and every King and Queen of the Seers must visit her before they take the throne."

"Why?" He asked, his curiosity piqued.

" _Onra_ is said to put the mind through various obstacles in order to unlock the body's greatest potential. My father saw her before he took his crown, and he only described it as being the most difficult battle he's ever had to fight. But he was stronger after seeing her, the strongest any of my people had ever seen."

"Not strong enough to beat Frieza."

Her mouth went slack and she moved her hand off of his arm, her eyes flashing with a hint of sadness. She turned to stare out of the window again and responded, "No. I suppose not. "

For reasons he couldn't fathom, he felt guilty at his choice of words towards her. But why? In Saiyan customs, it was blasphemous to be considered weak, and normally by now, he would have mocked her father's unsatisfactory demise.

But something about her tensed body posture and her despondent eyes gave him a case of remorseful words. He swallowed, almost apologetically.

"This _Onra_ you speak of, will she be willing to help me? I've never encountered anyone willing to help a Saiyan without force."

"She will if I suggest it."

"And how can you be so sure?"

A smile returned to her face, and she glanced at him from the corner of her eyes, her bangs invading her lashes. "Because I was set to be Queen. And _Onra_ doesn't refuse Seer royalty."

Vegeta chuckled at her words, noticing her eyebrow that accused him of insulting her. "A queen? I can't see you as a queen."

"And why not?! " She gripped the sides of her waist as she bore her eyes into his, demanding an explanation.

Vegeta shook his head, amused. "In Saiyan heritage, a queen is ruthless. Relentless. She will stop at nothing to get what she desires and will kill anyone who opposes her. It is an unwritten statement that she is more dangerous than a Saiyan king. My mother was the boss behind my father, and some said she was more of a man than he was. " He laughed at some ill forgotten memory, shaking his head as his shoulders vibrated.

"And you think I'm too weak to be a Queen? Not every race is as rambunctious as the Saiyans."

"You mean not every race is as _evolved_."

"Unbelievable," she stamped her foot lightly against the metal flooring of the space pod, crossing her arms. Seeing her so irritated reminded him of their first encounter, when her eyes slit into venom, delighting him. He was beginning to enjoy pushing this female's buttons. "You're telling me that I am unfit to be a queen because I do not compare to your _own_?"

"I believe that's what I'm saying, yes."

"Even though I was next in line to be queen?"

"A trivial mistake."

She scoffed at his nerve and looked away, blinking rapidly. "Just because I don't go around flaunting it, doesn't mean that I have inadequacies with issuing out authority. I have no problem with my sharp tongue."

"Hmph," he ran his eyes down her robed body, taking his time in sizing her up, "I bet your _tongue_ has never been a set back for you. It's your lack of strength that's the real issue."

A cream colored palm raced towards his face, and he caught it just before it made impact with his cheek. He yanked her close to him until their chests touched, her robe bunching against his armor.

"Do not overstep your boundaries, Oracle, " he whispered ominously, "if you raise a hand to me again, I will rip it from your arm. I don't believe you need two hands to aid me."

Her eyes still shone in malice, and he was slightly amused that she showed no fear to his threat. Interesting. Almost as if she were reaching down to the darkest pits of her chest, she replied in a throaty breath, "Fuck you."

She never ceased to amaze him.

"Oh? Acting like a queen are we? " His tone was tight with a challenge as he studied the features in her face, running a gloved finger over her clenched jaw. "You learn quickly. "

She jerked her wrist from his unsuccessfully and he pulled her in closer, so that her breasts were squished under the thick fabric of her robe against his breastplate. Her eyes were the color of gasoline fire, the same fire used to burn Saiyan enemies during every fourth moon festival, and he found himself dying in them and begging for life all at once. Astounding.

"Show me," he challenged, no longer willing to fight the temptation that slept between them.

Her bottom lip dropped in question, her expression softening slightly. "Excuse me?"

"I said, show me," he practically purred, bringing his face closer to hers, "show me that you're fit to be a queen. Any queen."

Her eyes ran over his face quizzically, her pupils darting across his features as she searched for an answer to his riddles.

"Come on, where did that fire go? Show me the ferocity that is Bulma, the Seer Queen. Show me why Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans, should bow before her feet." His mouth descended to hers slowly, her steady breaths ghosting against his lips. He opened his mouth to speak, his bottom lip grazing hers as he demanded in a husky whisper:

"Show me."

And then she kissed him, wrapping her lips around his with a hunger that rivaled his own.

He let her wrist go to grab her by the waist instead, pulling her even tighter to him. She pulled on his breastplate, astonishing him at how she almost ripped it off, and he groaned into her mouth. She tasted of sweetness and hope, of lust and promises of tomorrow, and he drowned in her wet tongue as she slivered it inside of his mouth like a snake, feeding him with her dark desire. This was definitely _her_ kiss, he concluded, making him a mere spectator in her personal affairs.

She finally got his breast plate off and began to snatch at his spandex top, breaking the kiss only to pay attention to her hands, and then returned to his mouth greedily, taking what he assumed she had claimed as hers. He tossed open her robe easily, watching as it waterfalled to the ground, and he palmed her breasts, lowering his head to suck on a pebbled nipple. She sighed as he lapped against her sensitive flesh, relishing in how deviously sweet she tasted his mouth, like a candied fig bar that he had to sneak as a child, and he waited for someone to come and take it away from him, chastising him with a "not yet."

Instead, she arched her back into his mouth, her hand gripping his thick neck as he rolled the nipple between his teeth, biting down gently. She mewled sweetly as he did, and he grunted as he was reminded of how she sounded that night when her fingers were lunged into her pussy, pleasuring herself.

She brought his face back up to hers as she kissed him feverishly, as if he would be diminished to ashes under her hands, and she used her body weight to push him to the ground. Letting his control go, he let her.

She watched him as she stood over him, smiling seductively as she ran a finger through her shoulder length hair. "You're like what _stars_ are made of," she said quietly, admiring him. "Fit to be underneath a queen." She lowered herself to him, straddling his waist, and bent down so that her face was pressed against his.

"I've never done this before."

He blinked at her with disbelief. "Had sex?"

"No," she smiled, "I mean fucking someone I like." Her hand reached down to his swollen cock, matching his swelling pride at her compliment, and she brought it out of his fabric as she trailed kisses down his chest. She maneuvered her body until she sat over his erection, her juices wetting his sensitive head. He gasped as she began to slide it inside her, her hand holding the base, her eyes locked with his.

He entered Bulma by her own guiding, as time stopped for both of them. Their intense stare down heated up as she filled herself with him, their breaths hitching in their throats.

"Fuck," she whispered as she rolled her hips, finding a comfortable spot. He helped her, kneading her hips in place, a unanimous approval escaping from them in the sound of pleasurable moans.

 _God_ , she felt good. She was warm around his throbbing cock, and didn't stiff up like the other useless fucks he had grown accustomed to. He didn't want to say it, but she was his first enjoyable sexual encounter also.

He watched as the lights from the stats highlighted her body as they whizzed past, adding on to her impossible beauty. She panted as her hips rolled and bucked against him, showing neither him or her any mercy. She rested a hand on his chest for support as she rode him relentlessly, moaning in songs as she became swallowed in the shadows of space, the stars taking a vacation from lighting their pod.

Without being able to see her, he could only feel what she was doing to him. And _fuck,_ it felt good. Her moans grew in intensity and surrounded him, and it was then that he realized that he too was vocalizing how electrified he felt. She was wet and rhythmic and sexy and _shit._

He was going to cum.

"Vegeta.. ~" she gasped, signaling her own release, and he mentally tried to still his cock so that she could cum satisfyingly. He didn't care (he did) about her finishing, but a woman had never complained of his ability to satisfy her needs, and gods be damned if Bulma were to be the first.

She bent down in the whispers of night and pressed her lips against his, desperately sucking his bottom lip as she rode him even faster. The sounds of flesh slapping flesh, accompanied with her wetness filled the pod, even silencing their crescendo moans. He kissed her back as the white hot orgasm surged through his belly, unable to be contained anymore.

She looped her fingers through his as she searched for his face in the dark, and he was surprised at how much he liked them like that. She on top of him, riding him into oblivion, her small fingers finding solace through his calloused ones. He wished he could see what they even looked like right then, although that thought alone gave him a pang of anxiety and frustration.

"Cum with me, Vegeta, " she demanded, her voice breathy and high potched, and he felt her walls tightening around him. At the sound of her direct words and the diligent movements of her hips, Vegeta felt himself finally explode, with Bulma wailing on top of him.

By mistake, or what he would later claim to be as a mistake, he let her name escape his lips as he came, becoming dizzy in the kaleidoscope of lust. It lasted an eternity, according to him, and by the time he came down, she was already collapsed on his chest, completely drained. Due to the haze of aftersex- - - and _only_ due to after sex- he stroked her back, enjoying the warmth she was providing him, enjoying the feeling of his cock still buried deep inside of her.

"I believe I showed you," she said groggily, wrapping her arms around his waist, placing a small kiss to his pectoral, "that performance was definitely worthy of a queen. _Any_ queen."

"Tch, don't flatter yourself, " he lied according to his tone, "surely you can do better."

"Mmmnn, " she groaned, too sleepy to speak a full sentence, "asshole."

He chuckled as he listened to her breaths become steadier and slower, her chest rising and falling to an easy rhythm, becoming a captive of sleeps restful veil.

He let her sounds lull himself to a peaceful slumber, too tired to question or chastise himself for his actions, and slept under her weight, the darkness of the pod enveloping them as they drifted into the depths of space.

OooOooo

 _ **This piece was written for the February 2017Smutfest Day #4: RolePlay, hosted by the Prince and the Heiress community.**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Smutfest Day #5: Dom/Sub|Oracular Spectacular**_

 **OooOooo**

The planet, if it could even be _called_ a planet, sat in the middle of the vast galaxy with no surroundings other than the void of space.

Vegeta scoffed at the miniscule rock as it came into view on the computer dash cam, wondering what kind of divine creature would subject herself to live out her days on a crater that was the size of his sleeping chambers. Absolutely absurd.

A gentle touch wisped across his shoulder, and he tilted his head up to see Bulma giving him a smile that rivaled any Saiyan sun while offering him a mug. His cheeks heated up with the color of roses as he remembered their night before. Her silken core slamming against his cock, her soft skin bathing him in unfair caresses, her fingers intertwining with his…

He accepted the mug and swallowed the drink inside quickly, hoping to kill his arousal at the thought of her.

"Careful!" she warned, walking to his side, "that's a specially crafted drink, meant to warm you from the inside out. You're supposed to sip it." She demonstrated by sipping daintily from her own mug, her blue eyes boring down on him.

Immediately he felt the effects, and he looked into his own mug, the opaque green liquid half gone. He felt unnecessarily hot, and stood up to try to rid the effects. "What the hell is this!?" He spat out.

She chuckled, bringing the rim of her mug up to her lips. "It's a drink of fermented _Tof_ berries and some strange liquor in the cabinet. I'm surprised this pod had any of either, to be honest. Anyway, _Onra's_ domain can be quite cold, and it's customary to drink a warm beverage to keep your body up to par to combat it."

"I'm a Saiyan!" He looked down at his mug with disgust, "We naturally run hot! "

"Not that warm," she sat her mug down on the panel of the dashboard and folded her arms, "but you'll just have to see it to believe it. You're as stubborn as any man I've ever met." Her eyes raked down to his chest, falling even lower to his crotch, and playfully ran back up to his embarrassed gaze. "At least your cock is less stubborn."

He turned away from her so she didn't have to see him turn completely red. "D-don't make me regret our night spent together, Bulma. I won't stand for your sarcasm or your ill fitted jokes."

She pouted behind his back, although a coy smile danced upon her lips. "My apologies, Prince Vegeta. Please don't take my personal amusement to heart. I _very_ much enjoyed myself." She walked to his backside, wrapping her arms around his waist. He tensed up at her gesture, uncomfortable with her position while he was feeling so vulnerable. Reaching down to the part of him that was losing his internal fight, he mustered the strength to unhook her arms from around him, refusing to turn around and face her.

"Get dressed," he said gruffly, fighting the urge to fuck her ragged before they landed, "we only have about twenty minutes until we reach our destination. I will go do the same."

He walked away from her then, repeating a mantra of ignoring her entire presence on this starry morning, lest he forget the whole mission entirely and get lost in her creamy thighs.

OooOooo

Stepping into Onra's domain

was more mystical than Vegeta had realized. The architecture resembled a cave, with calming, flowing waters that stretched to either side of the rocky walls, made up of the same substances as the planet itself. Pale shades of blue illuminated the inside of the domain, bouncing off of the spectrum of colors that made up Bulma's hair, and he couldn't help himself from staring at her from behind as she led the way into the deepest part of the cave.

"Watch your head, " she told him as he crouched down to lower himself to another level, and as soon as his feet touched the rough patched bottom, a teeth chattering cold punched him, making him shiver.

Bulma heard him growl, and turned around to face him with a knowing grin. "I told you, did I not? Had you drunk all of your beverage I made you, this would be more tolerable. Look at me, I'm perfectly fine."

Indeed she was. She was dressed in a sheer black fabric, wrapped around her in a loose fitting dress, her feet barely covered by gold sandals. She was more exposed than he was, and yet only his skin was covered in goose pimples at the prickly cold. "S-shut up," he said, the insides of his mouth becoming frost bitten as the icy air danced it's way in. Bulma scoffed at him and reached for his hands, cupping then with her own and began to furiously rub them together. A soft glow emitted from her finger tips, and instantly he felt a little better.

"What did you just do?"

"Its a trick my mother taught me, " she said as she rubbed his hands at a slower rate, massaging over his fingers, "it can be quite draining on the body, sharing energy like that, but for you," she gazed up at him with wink, "I'll make an exception."

He clicked his teeth and turned his head to the side, the sound he made bouncing off of the walls and surrounding them both. Bulma was getting under his skin in all of the ways he would never let someone do on a normal basis. The internal battle of whether he enjoyed it or not, however, waged onward and he was wondering where he fit on the spectrum.

"Okay, " she whispered, removing her hands from his, "that should be enough to get you through our duration here. If you find yourself feeling cold again, let me know and I'll share some more of my energy with you."

He grumbled at her words, the phrase 'thank you' sitting on his tongue and ready to spill from his caged lips. Instead he crossed his arms and said: "You offer too much assistance. I am a prince, not some common begger."

Her eyes scanned his face with a hint of amusement and she turned around slowly. "If you say so, my prince. Now follow me, _Onra_ is just through this small slit."

He watched as she turned her body sideways, easing through the tight space in the wall. He did the same, mentally thanking her for warming him when she did. If the air was cold, then the walls may as well have been ice blocks.

They reached the end and Vegeta was annoyed to see his boot submerged in water. Bulma bent down and took off her sandals, looking up at him momentarily. "This is a sacred place," she said simply, and waited for him.

Reluctantly, he removed his boots and placed them at the entrance of the slit, following her to the sanctuary in the center of the spacious room. Small lights were arranged in a circle around a pillar, glowing with a subtle shade of blue, and in the center sat a large statue. Its face was covered by a hood, completely carved in rock, and the hands were pressed together in a praying motion. Bulma kneeled down beside him, tugging on his pant leg.

"You must show respect for _Onra_ and kneel, Vegeta. "

Vegeta shook his head in disbelief. They had traveled out to this rock in the middle of nowhere, for _this_? " _Onra_ is a fucking rock? I'm supposed to ascend to the legendary because of some _rock_?"

Bulma sharply glared at him, her breath dramatically hitching in her throat. "Watch your tongue!" she said with more anger than he had ever heard from her, " _Onra_ may not be here physically, but I can guarantee that your insults transcend this sacred room and dive right into her ears! "

He glared back at her for several seconds before sighing and giving in, dropping to his knees in the puddle of water below. A groan escaped his chest and Bulma rolled her eyes.

"If you're finished acting like a child, shut up so I can call to her. "

...He had _better_ fucking ascend to the legendary and beyond if she were to think she could talk to him like that.

Bulma brought her head down and put her hands together, mimicking the statue, and began to speak in a language that Vegeta had never heard before. " _Onra, isti takul ne Bulma roqui Seers. Echir serti mor groli ye itti boli_."

The water around Vegeta's knees began to lap around the fabric as Bulma spoke, and it sounded like a choir was humming from the depths of it. The statue in the middle of the room deteriorated in front of his very eyes, and in the next blink a spirit was in its wake, covered in a thick blue hood that its face.

" _Itnik nol proful Bulma. Etchi ura firi cotul_? "

Onra sounded like an all being, as if several voices of different pitches came out of her at once. It was as if she was singing and talking at the same time, and Vegeta watched in awe.

" Forgive me, _Onra_ , " Bulma said, her accent thick and her head still lowered, "but perhaps we can speak in the common tongue? I have with me Vegeta, the Prince of all the Saiyans, and he does not speak the tongue of the Seer."

Onra's hood turned in his direction, the water beneath her trembling with her Cape. "Bulma," she spoke, her accent just as thick, "you have brought a Saiyan to this holy place. Why do you defile me so?"

"Forgive me, " Bulma finally brought her face up, her eyes the color of the water below them pleading, "but I have seen visions of Vegeta bringing peace back to our galaxy and ridding space of the terror named Frieza. I brought him here so that you could help him, _Onra_."

"I see." She swayed delicately over the water, creating music with her movements. "You wish to become the legendary, do you not?"

Vegeta watched her, waiting for Bulma to reply. She elbowed him and he turned to look at her. She mouthed for him to answer Onra and he cleared his throat.

"Yes," he said with finality, "I understand it is necessary and I don't not know how to achieve it on my own."

"Very well." Onra moved from over the water, her long phantom arm pointing to where she just was. "Step into the waters, Saiyan Prince. You must be judged by your own soul for absolute power. Only then will you get the answers you seek."

He rose to his feet hesitantly, softly splashing water around and moved closer to the pool of water in the center of the pillars. He glanced one last time back at Bulma, who nodded at him reassuringly, before stepping up the small steps.

"Be not afraid," Onra said, her voice ringing in his ears due to their close proximity, "the waters are deep but your test is deeper."

Needing no further coaxing, he stepped into the water, blackness instantly engulfing him.

OooOooo

Vegeta blinked his eyes rapidly as he adjusted to the darkness around him. He scanned the room for Bulma, but was only met with the silent void. He rose to his feet, irritated at the lack of anything.

"You have come, " a voice called out to him.

Vegeta turned in the direction of the voice, and saw a glowing white spirit in the far corner of the room. "Who are you?" he called out, his tone leaving little room for pleasantries.

"I am you, " the voice spoke back, deeper and more whimsical than his own, "and you are me."

"I don't understand, " Vegeta attempted to move closer to the voice, but they stayed the same distance no matter how many steps he took.

"You seek the hidden power of the legendary. That is why you're here." A long finger pointed in his direction, scaly and bony, and Vegeta clenched his jaw, feeling disturbed. "It is already in you."

He was taken aback at the proclamation. Already in him? "What do you mean?"

"The power you seek lies dormant in you, one who is me. It only needs to be unlocked. "

" How so? " Vegeta felt himself growing with impatience. " Tell me! "

The voice laughed darkly, sending chills down Vegeta's spine. "It is simple, one who is me. A sacrifice for a sacrifice. Nothing can be given without being taken away."

Vegeta tightened his fists, swallowing hard. "I have nothing to give." He said, and meant it. What did have to sacrifice? His kingdom? He would turn over a thousand kingdoms if it meant he could taste the power of the legendary. Any Saiyan would.

The spirit materialized in front of him, and Vegeta found himself looking down black pits that resembled his own eyes, a bony hand reaching to touch his cheek.

"You have plenty, " it said simply, and then it showed him visions.

Visions of feet dangling from his bed, of talks in his chambers, candlelight dancing upon soft features. Whispers in the Saiyan garden under the highest moon, creamy thighs parted on his bed. Whimpers of pleasure above him as she fucked them both, tendrils of blue hair falling on his chest in a pool of beauty.

One after the other, the spirit showed him pictures of Bulma, and Vegeta snatched away from the haunting images.

"What is the meaning of this!? " he demanded.

"Can you not see, one who is me? Great power requires a great sacrifice. Only pain can grant you your desires."

But what the hell did that have to with Bulma?

The spirit laughed again, hovering closer to Vegeta again. "Because you want her around. What impact would it have on your life if she were suddenly gone? Once you become the legendary, does her life matter anymore?"

"How did you know what I was thinking? "

"I am you and you are me," it said simply. "And I know what it is that is inside of you. You are confused by it, yet you welcome it. She is the cause of you suffering as well as the solution to your uprising."

Vegeta let the phantom's words wash over him. He let himself marinate on the possibility of Bulma not being the source of his torment, and decided be did not like that very much. "I don't love her," he said finally.

"Of course," the spirit replied, a hint of a smile playing under his words, "for how can one who is me love, when love was never experienced?" At impeccable speeds, the phantom was in front of Vegeta again and touching him.

This time it showed him a younger Vegeta, resting in his mother's lap, playing with the fabric of her dress as she hummed to him. " _No'Ouji bebil ul mama_ ," she had said in the Saiyan tongue , mother's little prince. Younger Vegeta smiled with satisfaction and snuggled closer. Another vision. Blue fire engulfing the remains of his mother, her body disfigured after a long disease. His gloomy expression. His distant father. The first time he realizded how cruel life was.

"Bulma makes it better, yes? " the phantom replied, taking his hand away. "It hurts a little less, even if it pains you more to admit it."

Vegeta tried to settle his rapid breathing, the memories too haunting for him to bare. "I can't achieve the legendary unless I give her up?"

"A small sacrifice, " the spirit taunted, "for a greater purpose."

Vegeta growled as he let everything sink in, his silent thoughts banging so loudly against his ears it was driving him insane. It was a pity that he had come this far only to fail so soon.

"Then I refuse, " he said with absolution. His jaw clenched at the admittance. " The sacrifice isn't worth the payoff. " Did he really just say that?

"You are sure? Once you have left this place, you can never return. And the lure of the legendary will sleep inside of you."

He nodded before he allowed his typical overthinking to change his mind. The spirit nodded in return and raised both of his arms upwards.

"Away with you then."

OooOooo

"Vegeta? Are you okay now? "

His vision came slowly too as the haze of what he just experienced faded from his vision, and he found himself resting his head in Bulma's lap. He blinked away his confusion and wanted to get up, but his body was too heavy and her lap too warm.

"You are worthy," Onra said from above them, and their eyes flickered to her.

"What? " Vegeta's voice was scratchy and hoarse, as if he had not used it in years.

"You are worthy, Saiyan prince. The Seer that holds you is the last of her kind, and I will not allow the children of my children to be wiped out. The legendary is one of the greatest sources of power to sweep our galaxy, and can turn its yielder into the greatest of allies, or the most fearsome of foes. You required testing before I would turn over such an abundant power, and you are worthy to receive my aid. Rise to me. "

Vegeta complied, feeling his body much lighter, and moved to the middle of the pillars, heading to Onra. Her hood pointed downward in his direction, and her hand covered his entire head when he got close enough. " _Finri Otula_ \- it it finished."

With her words, Vegeta felt an enormous power course through him at an electrifying rate, causing him to scream out as it raced through his veins, changing the very core of his DNA.

He could feel his muscles expanding, his heart rate increasing. His pupils dilated, his flamed hair spiked upwards, a golden hue radiating around his peripherals. He heard Bulma gasp behind him, but he was so taken with his new found strength that her sounds became white noise.

Onra removed her hand from his head and the power left him, his body returning to its natural state.

"What... What happened!? " he asked irately.

"It is unlocked inside of you now, Saiyan Prince. Your job now is to find balance to control the power. Remember that balance keeps you in control." She hovered back to the center of the pillars, dropping down to the water. " _Votuli Rihad_ , Bulma."

" _Votuli Rihad, Onra_ ," Bulma repeated.

Onra nodded, and then her spirit changed back into the rock, as if she had never been disturbed in the first place.

OooOooo

Ten hours.

It has taken Vegeta ten grueling hours. Hours spent with zero rest, no food of any sort, and only the smallest of time allotted for bathroom breaks. Ten hours of painstaking trials and failures.

But he had finally done it.

He emerged from the small confinement in the pod where they slept, making his way to the swivel chair that sat in front of the dashboard. Bulma was sleeping in it, her arm draped over the back, her cheek resting in the space of her elbow.

Had she been waiting for him?

He hadn't even so much as uttered her name since they arrived back to the pod, he being so caught up in his new found power and she anxious to see if he could abide by Onra's words. Their very fate depended on it, leaving both parties isolated until results were seen.

"Bulma, " he said loudly, waking her abruptly from her slumber.

She shook her head as she let her eyes drink him in, the lull of sleep still tugging on her brain. A smile widened slowly across her face, and she stood up from her chair, knocking it back.

"You did it! You really did it! You found the balance! " She lunged at him and threw her arms around his neck before pulling away and shaking her wrists. "Ouch. And you're scalding hot, too." She peered into his turquoise eyes, her face radiating with delight as she let her vision become accustomed to this new, golden haired Vegeta.

"Now to move onwards with the plan," he replied, his voice sounding more sure, his fingers itching for the fight with Frieza, "we are heading back to Vegetesai?"

She nodded. "We should arrive the same time as him. And that is when you can plan your attack."

"Good." He looked down into her blue eyes, full of pride and joy at his accomplishment, and it brought back the darkness and the Phantom who taunted him.

 _What would you do if she were gone?_

What would he do?

This woman, who should have been nothing more than Frieza's whore of a pet, had suddenly dug a little hole on his isolated space, a space that he had thrown away when he watched his mother burn in fire.

She helped him, gave him guidance, and now because of her, he had achieved what no Saiyan had ever been able to before: become the Legendary.

Should he thank her?

He turned away from her, unable to stand the comfort of having her so close. "Bulma, " he said lowly, "where will you go?"

He didn't need to turn around to hear her frown as she replied, "What do you mean?"

He grit his teeth. He really didn't want to have this conversation, but the dammed phantom had unlocked more than just his superior strength. "After Frieza is defeated," he continued, looking at her over his shoulder, "where will you go?"

She looked down to the floor, anxiously caressing one of her arms, her voice becoming small. "I don't know."

Oh.

Vegeta breathed deeply, hoping she would be more forthcoming than that. If she didn't know, then he guess he didn't either.

He was about to turn away, throwing his hands to the matter, when her tiny voice found home in his ears.

"Can I stay with you? "

He caught his breath, swallowing.

So she did want to stay with him. He relaxed a little at her question, although it opened a new worry in his chest. Did she know what she was asking? Did she realize what staying with him could mean?

"What would you do, if you stayed with me? "

" I don't know, " she shrugged, turning to look out of the window, "help you, maybe. After Frieza is defeated, everything in the foreseeable future is hazy, like I'm not meant to know what's beyond that." Her eyes slowly found the muscles in his back and she willed her feet to walk towards him. "Or unless decisions still have to be made."

Something in her tone coaxed him to turn around finally and he saw fear in her eyes at the unknown. Was she referring to his decision?

His eyes refused to land on hers, so he made contact with the bridge of her nose. "Staying with me would mean that you would cease being a whore. _Anyone's_ whore."

"Thats okay," she chuckled lightly, "it's not like I like it. Frieza made me do it to earn him money, but if I had a choice I'd study the stars." Her eyes shone at her admission, and Vegeta finally looked at her.

"Staying with me," he said in a deep, velvety tone, "would mean that your loyalties lie directly to me."

"Okay. "

"In _and_ out of the bedroom."

She shook her head in a happy sort of disbelief, as if she was wanting to hear those words but never expected to hear them. "What are you asking me, Vegeta?"

The way his name sounded with her accent was mesmerizing, as if she had birthed the name herself. Never had he heard it sound like honey so sweet before. "I'm not asking you anything," he said bluntly, trying to regain his own control, "I'm providing you a choice in the matter. But if you want my protection, then those are the requirements."

He watched as thought danced across Bulma's features, and for a brief moment his stomach sank. She was going to tell him no, that she refused to go from one servitude to another. Even though his loyalties to her would also be a part of the contractual deal, he braced himself to understand her placement, although his Saiyan jealousy wanted to mark her as his territory.

She reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning her head back so that she exposed her neck. He watched her in confusion, noticing the nervous way in which she swallowed.

"Is this right? " she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

" What are you doing Bulma? "

Her eyes traveled to his. " I remember hearing that Saiyan men require the female to surrender her neck in submission, if they agree to becoming loyal. Is that right? "

She was certainly smart, that's for sure. Spending enough time in the chambers of Saiyan men had to teach her something. Instinctively, he ran a finger down her pale flesh, making her shiver, and he smiled.

"Yes, little female, that is correct."

"Okay, " she breathed out, "then we have a deal, if you want to make it official."

He studied her face to see any error of the truth and came up empty. So she was willing to fully submit herself to him?

"I hope you realize the weight of your words, Bulma. "

She nodded, swallowing hard again. "I'm ready."

As soon as she said it, his lips found the base of her neck, sucking against the skin. She sighed, running her fingers through his hair. He ran his tongue around where his lips had been, and then he pierced the flesh with his canines, making her breathe out a mixture of pain and pleasure.

Her knees began to sink to the floor and he followed, alternating between kissing and biting, tattooing his name on her flesh. His eyes searched for her face as he continued his ravaging of her throat, and was displeased to see her eye lids shut tightly, trying to mask the pain she was in. Wanting to soothe her, he ran a hand down to her panties, pushing past them to run a finger over her clit, rubbing the nub in small circles.

She moaned then, momentarily forgetting the pain that he was producing on her neck, and bucked her cunt against his hand. He rubbed his fingers faster, trying to lick the blood from her wound clean. Bulma mewled at his touch, her songs of pleasure giving him a quick boost of the ego.

When her wound was finished, he brought his face up to meet hers, kissing her flushed cheeks as his fingers continued their massage. His hand was wet from her juices, and her lips were parted slightly as she moaned, her head thrown back, her eyes shut.

Beautiful.

"Look at me, " he demanded, removing his hand from her panties. She did, her eyes half lidded, her arousal wrapped around his finger like the gloves he discarded.

"I want to watch you cum."

He removed his training pants quickly, entering her as soon as his swollen cock was set free. She did as he requested and kept her contact locked with his, wrapping her arms around his neck to bring his forehead closer to hers. She panted against his lips as his hips moved inside of her, slowly bringing himself out only to push hard back in, and she squealed every time she felt him thrust.

He held her weight up with one arm, the other kneading her breasts, his strokes still continuing their deliciously slow thrusts. "Vegeta," she whispered, tears forming around her eyes, "Please. Harder."

He chuckled as he watched her unable to take anymore, and quickened his pace, her breasts moving with their rhythm. He pumped inside of her like she would deteriorate if he didn't, and he panted along with her, sweat perspiring on his forehead.

"Am I yours? " she asked breathlessly, a hand reaching down to rub her clit as he pounded into her, the sounds of smacking flesh filling the pod.

He grunted and thought of how to answer that, his words getting tangled with his own arousal. Never in his life had he wanted to protect something with everything he had in him. Not since his mother, and she had been cruelly taken from him. The anger of knowing that the one thing he loved in this galaxy was taken away by some asinine illness had caused him to rupture with power, and ascend all on his own.

But anger was the accelerant. It did not keep the fire burning. And if he didn't want to be consumed by it, then he had to figure out how to keep the flame safely lit.

Happiness.

The solution to loss, the healer of sorrows, the breaker down of walls. Things that he had declared as a monstrosity now helped him become the strongest warrior in the galaxy.

Because of her.

She was the balance.

So as he looked her in the eyes, watching as a gut wrenching orgasm possessed her, before his orgasm swept him away in its fury, he answered her under his code of honor as a prince:

"Yes. "

OooOooo

 _ **A/N:**_

 _ **This piece was written for the February 2017 Smutfest Day #5: Dom /Sub, hosted by the Prince and the Heiress community.**_

 _ **(Also an abundance of playing Zelda inspired this chapter and for that I am sorry :3)**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Smutfest Day 6: Lingerie**_

OooOooo

When Vegeta awoke the next morning, he was surprised to find himself in an intimate position with Bulma, his arms wrapped around her small waist. She lay on top of him in a peaceful slumber, her hair messy and spreading across his chin.

He looked at her as she lay sprawled out on his chest, mouth slightly agape and soft snores spilling out, and he wondered if he even deserved someone like her. By all accounts of his very nature, he was a killer. Cold. Calculated. Completely no room in his life for any shred of warm summer suns and hearts that beat for any reason outside of battle. And yet here he lay, on a small pod floating in the middle of space, with a Seer woman clutching on to him like he mattered.

The lump in his throat reminded him of his inconsistent feelings of the whole ordeal, and he glanced at the ceiling to mentally escape. This wasn't supposed to happen, but it did, and he was allowing it. He had marked her, claimed her as his own before he even let the thought marinate in his brain, and a part of him called himself a fool. The other part of him held her a little tighter as if his mind would win with his Saiyan reason, and she would disappear all together.

She began to move in her sleep, her breathing patterns changing, and he knew she was beginning to awake. On cue, she blinked her eyes open, stretching her arms outward as she brought feeling back into her cramped ligaments, and her blue eyes shifted upward to his.

"Hello there, " she said with a smile, her voice still strained from the duration of sleep.

The bangs of her hair messily laid across her forehead, infiltrating her eyes, and he brushed them out of the way to get a better look at her.

"How long have you been awake? " she asked, resting her hands on his muscular chest, her chin laying on top.

"Not long," he replied, "maybe a few minutes before you."

"Mmmm, " she closed her eyes, and for a second he wondered if she was going back to sleep, but then her mouth moved. "I wish we could stay like this for longer."

He didn't respond, not used to having to engage in these types of situations. Bulma seemed... _happy_...even in the midst of all this chaos, and it brought feelings of self doubt that the Prince had never felt before. He was always the strongest, always being told in private of how he could easily surpass his father, had always been the smartest. The most regal. The most dangerous. On his planet, amongst his people, he had always been number one; he had a place and a purpose that he never failed to fulfill.

But with her, none of that mattered. She didn't care about his statistics, his strength only mattered in whether or not he fulfilled her prophecy. She didn't cower at his feet when he was threatening her, she didn't demand things from him to satisfy her own selfish advantage. She had managed to look past his veil of a Saiyan Prince and saw Vegeta, the man.

And how the hell did he live up to something like that?

"What's our ETA?" he asked instead of replying to her question.

"About 8 hours," she said with a yawn, reaching out to stroke the sharp angles of his jawline.

He was perplexed at how magical her fingers were against his skin, and he waited for a moment to see if she would come to her senses and realize exactly _who_ she was touching.

"Your garments that you have with you," he inquired, "are they the only articles of clothing you own?"

She raised an eyebrow to the judgment in his question, her eyes narrowing. "Why?"

"Just answer the question!"

"Hmph, you're pretty grumpy this morning, " she repositioned herself so that she was looking down at him, her hair falling on his neck, "but yes. These are the only things Frieza permitted me to wear outside of my naked flesh."

"As I thought." He grabbed her at her waist and sat her on the metal floor beside him, rising to his feet.

"What are you doing?"

He walked over to the instruments panel on the dashboard, pressing various buttons and making the computer a kaleidoscope of colors. "Changing coordinates slightly," he answered simply.

She sat up so that her body rested on her knees, looking at him with hesitation. "Why are you doing that? Where are you taking us?"

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, frowning at the slight panic in her voice. "Relax, Bulma." He turned back to pay attention to setting the coordinates.

"I _can't_ until you tell me where we're going," she shot to her feet, "8 hours seems like a long time, but we shouldn't wait to the last minute to utilize our strategies."

"I _know_ that," he snarled, "I'm not taking us off course. There's a trading planet that's right outside of the sector of Vegetesai." He turned his head to meet her gaze. "You require clothes- _good_ clothes, and not second hand whore attire."

She pressed the sheer black fabric closer to her body, suddenly feeling ashamed. "Well _sorry_ for not being accustomed to your luxuries."

"Stop that. That isn't what I meant." He sighed. "There's no reason that you should dress like that if it isn't your lifestyle anymore. Not if you'll be in my company."

She relaxed her tensed face. "Oh," she said with a refreshing breath. A small smile creeped upon her lips, pinks filling her cheeks. "You wish to take me shopping? With your own money?"

He groaned and closed his eyes. "Don't make this a deal," he said, "I'm merely looking out for my own interests. A prince should not adorn a whore on his arm. And are you not a whore anymore?"

Bulma breathed deeply and tried not to be offended, knowing Vegeta was trying to save face. But still, he could be a little more charming, after all. "Fine," she said, "I'll go freshen myself." She turned to the back part of the pod, almost reaching the metal door where the shower was located, and turned her head over her shoulder.

"Oh Vegeta? "

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, just in time to see the sheer material fall to the floor around her feet in a puddle.

"Perhaps you'd care to join me? I believe you could use some freshening up too." She curled her finger at him in a waving motion, sealing her invitation with a seductive smile and a sway of her hips.

Vegeta watched her as his arousal peaked, deciding to listen to his brain below, and followed her after setting the coordinates to the nearest trading planet.

OooOooo

After two hours, they landed on Sunev, a planet with strange, colorful aliens that loved making a profit more than they cared about their outer appearance. The planet reeked of a stale odor and musk, and Bulma covered her nose as they stepped off of the pod.

"We're going shopping _here_? " She said, her eyes glittering in disapproval.

Vegeta clicked his teeth. "Never mind the appearance of this planet. This alien race is known for having the finest of items in this sector of the galaxy, outside of Vegetesai of course." He crossed his arms as he peered out into the orange sands of Sunev, painted in a golden hue at the large sun looming above their heads.

"Come on, " he hopped down and offered her his hand for ease, "we need to make this trip short and efficient."

She nodded as her feet landed smoothly on the ground. The sun beat down on her, causing her to sweat immensely. She swallowed as she walked behind Vegeta, feeling the fatigue already.

They hadn't made it to the outer city limits before Vegeta turned around, noticing her slowing pace. "What's the matter?" he asked in annoyance.

Bulma's eyes defensively flickered to his, her mouth curving into a frown. "It's insanely hot on this planet. Even walking is draining me of energy."

"It's not that bad, quit your complaining. If we continue at your pace, Frieza will have destroyed Vegetasai _and_ this planet."

Her eyes lit with the blue fire that he found he liked, and she snarled, clenching her fists. "You Saiyans may be impeccably warm blooded, but I am _not_. Seerus was a controlled climate planet, and my people are more adapted to the cold than to the hot."

"Tch." He knew she wasn't lying in that matter. Onra's domain was an ice dungeon, and if it hadn't been for Bulma, then he wouldn't have been able sustain against the frigid cold. She looked pitiful, he would admit, with her hair sticking to her forehead and her cheeks red at her increased body heat. Sure, he enjoyed it when she was flushed when she was under or on top of him, but in this manner, she just looked miserable.

He took a deep breath, letting his inconvenience be known, and walked back to her. He knelt down, facing away from her, until his knees were almost touching the sands. "Climb on," he demanded, "at least it will be faster this way."

She was too uncomfortable to complain, so she hopped on his back, resting her legs in the crooks of his arms as he hooked them around her knees, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. He stood and she smiled, feeling better already. "Thank you, Vegeta," she whispered in his ear before kissing his cheek.

"Don't make me drop you! " he said, his face turning as red as the sky above. He could deal with her kisses in the heat of their passions, but one sugar-coated in affection made him feel strange in a way that he didn't like.

She chuckled against his ear, wrapping her arms tighter around him as he carried her into town.

OooOooo

The shopping center of Sunev was an outside district full of tents and caravans, and Bulma gawked in his ear at the wondrous fabrics and designs, pointing out various shades that she thought would compliment her.

"Do you have to do that!? " Vegeta barked as she squealed over a dress under a maroon colored tent.

"I'm sorry," she said sheepishly, resting her chin on the top of his back, "it's just that I haven't gone shopping since I was a little girl. Not since my father took me on a trip."

There was a trace of sadness in her tone that made Vegeta feel slightly guilty and he spat out a sharp breath of air. He could see her eyes focused on the dress with the innocence of a child, the rest of her face below her nose hidden behind the muscles in his back. He sighed.

"... You like that one? " he said with reluctance.

Bulma brought her face up slowly, like a small creature emerging from its underground hole, resting her eyes in his cheek. "It's very pretty."

He looked at the sleeveless dress, a white color in all its purity with golden links around the waist. The top was slit to the middle, so that her belly button as well as the sides of her breasts would be exposed, and the bottom was cut short in the front while the back trailed in layers of white and sheer fabrics. He imagined Bulma in the dress, her curves filling out the expensive material, the colors making her look majestic. No wonder she was gawking over it; his imagination was running wild at the thought of seeing her in it.

He crossed the section and headed for the tent, a small purple alien with a triple set of ink black eyes staring at him as he came closer. It's fangs were a disgusting type of yellow, and it's tentacles twitched at the promise of a seller.

"How much for the dress? " Vegeta asked as he approached, nodding at the fabric on the back wall of the tent.

"Dees one?" The imp of an alien looked up and touched it with one of its many arms. "Dees is expensive of all tings."

Vegeta felt his temple tense with irritation. He definitely did not have time to deal with vague answers. "How much specifically?"

The alien shrugged, looking out into the distance. "You name credits in pocket, dees one answer you den. Not before."

"Forget it, Vegeta," Bulma whispered in his ear, "it obviously is playing tricks with you. He probably doesn't think you can afford it."

Vegeta growled and ignored her, stepping closer to the wooden console where the alien was perched. No one made a fool of the Prince, and certainly not one that was so inferior that it made Vegeta's shit seem glorious.

"Listen to me, you low scum piece of shit, " he grit through his teeth, "not only do I have enough credits to buy you, your family, and the pitiful excuses of walking semen you probably produced, but if you don't offer me your assistance _right now_ , I will obliterate this pathetic planet, and I'll start the purge with you."

" Vegeta... " Bulma urged.

"Pppaaah! " the alien looked bored, "Talk scary but no prove. Dees one not budge. Tell credits and dees one talk."

Vegeta curled his lip over his teeth, letting Bulma off of his back and setting her onto her feet. He reached across the counter and grabbed the alien by the throat, raising it in the air.

"You dare challenge _me_? " he seethed, "I will only ask once more, and that is solely out of courtesy for the lady. Tell me the price of the dress, or the Saiyan prince will be the last memory engrained in the pathetic brain of yours."

All of the creatures eyes widened in fear as it gasped for air against Vegeta's tightening fist. "S-Saiyan?" it choked out.

"Hmph, " Vegeta smiled in arrogance, "that's fucking right. The Saiyan Prince has requested an answer, so will you fulfill it? Or will you die at his feet, begging for mercy that you won't receive?"

The alien turned a lavender shade, nodding his head furiously. Vegeta dropped it as it coughed relentlessly. "Out with it!" he yelled furiously.

Fear consumed the alien's face as it removed the dress from the perched stand, setting it on the counter. "One hundred thousand credits," he said with a faltering voice, "material expensive from it make."

Vegeta reached in his pocket and removed a card, throwing it on the counter under his palm, the wooden platform splintering with his heavy force. He pointed to Bulma with his other hand. "Give her the finest of treatment and any garments she prefers. And if she complains of your service, I will kill you."

The alien gulped and nodded, scooping up the dress and turning its attention to Bulma. "Follow," it said, hopping down from its bench, "dress need adjust on you." It looked at Vegeta again, taking in his scowl and dark features before walking towards the cut out in the back.

Bulma walked around Vegeta to the wooden bench, lifting it. Before her body went under the counter, she turned to glare at him. "You're a bad man."

He folded his arms and returned her glare, pressing his lips into a tight line. "A bad man who's going to buy you that dress. Now follow that fuckwad of a creature so we can going before we run out of time. "

She shook her head at him, rolling her eyes and going behind the counter, disappearing with the alien behind the cut out.

OooOooo

A short while later the alien emerged, playing with one of its arms nervously. Vegeta was leaning against the counter impatiently, his chin resting on his hand, and he ran his eyes over to the alien as it hopped up on the bench.

"Saiyan," it said with cowardice, "female say speak to you."

Vegeta stood up straight, dusting off the sprinkles of dust that stained his breastplate. He went under the wooden platform as the alien lifted it, pretending to ignore the fearful glance that the creature was giving him. If he hadn't known any better, he would think that the imp flinched.

"She had better not have any complaints, " he threatened before heading through the space.

The back of the tent had various large sheets cut into boxes for dressing areas, each one veiled for privacy. Vegeta glanced around to where Bulma could be, and then he heard the creature scurry up behind him.

"Dat one dere, " it said shyly, pointing to a green sheet, "send in she say."

Vegeta scoffed and headed in the direction, lifting the green sheet and entering inside when he reached it.

Bulma was smoothing the front of her dress below her belly button, looking at herself in a large glass that sat inside the individual sheet tent. She turned and smiled at him when he came up behind her, and he had to cough to cover his admiration of the dress.

"See?" She did a little spin for him, her smile radiant, "What do you think?"

What did he think?

What did he _think_?

He thought she looked like a meal after he had been starving, like the moon bringing refreshment after a grueling hot day. He thought that she looked regal, like the Queen she should have been, like a woman who could control the entire galaxy with one flick of a shapely thigh, with a point of a dainty finger. She was ethereal, beyond any compliment of calling her beautiful.

But of course he couldn't tell her that.

"I think it looks like a suitable purchase, " he said, trying to hide the inflation in his voice. "And if you're happy with it then we should be on our way."

She glanced at herself in the glass once more and nodded. "Okay," she said, reaching behind to unhook the golden links, "just let me take it off."

She fumbled with the clasps for several moments before giving up, a desperate whine escaping her lips. "Vegeta," she pouted at him through the glass, "can you help me?"

He clicked his teeth and moved forward, instantly unhooking it, the dress spilling to her feet. He could not stop his expression as the dress left behind her undergarments, lacy and the color of blood, painted on her skin and amplifying her delicious curves.

"Where did you get those? " he said in a husky voice, unable to peel his eyes from her.

Bulma smirked at him through the glass, moving her hair behind one of her ears. "The alien gave it to me with the dress. Told me to consider it a gift for upsetting you." She turned to face him, her breasts sitting higher than he had ever seen them, looking succulent and curved perfectly in the lace. The straps crisscrossed around her neck in the front, resting on the back of her neck in a perfectly shaped bow. Her underwear was tight, pressing into her full thighs with no mercy, cupping the cheeks of her ass as if the material were lifting it up in prayer. "Do you like it on me?" she purred, tilting her head to the side.

Vegeta finally tore his gaze away from the sight of her to look up to her eyes, a dark hunger emerging in his irises. He grabbed her wrist quickly, bringing her to him so that she slammed into his chest, and he growled with arousal as her breasts pressed tight against his pectorals.

He spun her around so that his back was to the glass, and he devoured her lips into a greedy kiss, his animalistic nature rising out of him. He pulled away, stopping to look at her eyes that burned with want, and he cupped her breasts firmly.

He knelt down so that they were in front of his face, teasing him and begging him. He said nothing as he studied them, kissing her pert nipples through the fabric. It felt so good against his skin, and the material was in the early stages of smelling like her. She covered her mouth as a moan escaped her lips, trying to bite down the pleasure that accompanied his actions.

He smiled wickedly, abandoning his twin companions and dropping to his knees, looking at her face with a smug grin. She breathed heavily as her face questioned what he was doing, and he grabbed her by the hips to silence her unspoken words.

"I want to see what I can do without taking these off, " he murmured, running a palm over her cunt though the fabric. She shuddered as he ran over clit, biting down a finger to stifle her sounds. He pressed his nose into her warm center, giving a long, sole sniff.

"You're wet," he said with arrogance, "and I've barely touched you. Is it because I satisfy you?" He pushed the fabric aside and ran a finger slowly down her slickened lips, making her gasp, "or does this fabric entice you too?"

She swallowed hard as she tried to think of a response, but his finger was trailing the slit between her lips, and her words were becoming tangled in her whispered moans. She nodded, whispering, "I like them," before throwing her head back and gasping.

Vegeta kissed her swollen nub softly, smiling at how sweet she tasted on his tongue. He marveled in delight, producing a sound that he only gave when he was enjoying a good meal. She ran her fingers through his coarse hair, tilting her hips upward and pressing them to his mouth.

"Impatient, are we? " He ran his finger up and down her again, applying a little more pressure, enjoying the way she moaned behind her hand. "I wonder how quiet you can continue to be?" he challenged her, before he pressed his tongue against her clit.

She let out a high pitch squeak as he tasted her, panting his name in hushed whispers. His tongue lapped at her relentlessly, playing with her clit as he alternated between sucking and licking, experimenting with which sounds he could make her produce.

"Oh my God! " she whispered, as he tossed a leg over his shoulder to give him better access. He buried his face between her then, and she growled ferociously, cupping his head with both of her hands.

He kicked and sucked and tugged and massaged her swollen clit, feasting on her like she was his own personal desert. The fabric of her panties rubbed against his chin and cheek, adding to the allure of eating her pussy. He slipped a finger inside of her to accompany his tongue, and she stilled her breath at the intrusion.

"V-Vegeta, " she whispered, fighting control on keeping her pitch down. He stopped his tongue as his finger continued, adding another and curling it towards him, massaging her secret sweet spot that he discovered in the shower that morning. Her knees buckled as an unsolicited moan spilled from her lips, and he had to use more strength than he realized to keep her up.

He kissed the inside of her thighs as his fingers worked their magic, and her hands wandered through his hair desperately. Her head was bowed and her eyes shut as she enjoyed the pleasure he was giving her, her hot juices squirting out of her and sliding down her thigh.

"Look at me, " he said softly, and she opened her eyes, her blue irises lost in the haze of lust. Seeing how much she was enjoying herself further enticed him, and he stroked her faster, pressing down on the spot inside of her pussy with careful weight, making her cry out in hysteria.

He locked his eye contact with her as his mouth devoured her again, his tongue moving at speeds that drove her crazy, making sweat beads form in between her breasts.

"This is what I think, " he said in a husky voice, barely above a whisper, his chin and lips covered in her juices. He tugged on the panties with his teeth, smirking at her, his fingers dancing inside of her tight hole.

" Ffffuuuuccck! " she cursed, and even the rough word sounded like honey coming off of her lips. She rocked against his fingers, trying to hold herself up as best as she could. He licked her again and felt her twitch, and Bulma sighed passionately.

"Do you want to see how pretty you cum? " he asked, completely possessed by her moans and her juices and her sweet cunt, "do you want to see why I enjoy fucking you?"

She nodded with restraint, unable to vocalize anything else.

"I turned you for a reason, " he riddled, and went back to feasting on her.

She saw through his words and brought her head up, watching their reflection through the glass. His muscular back flexing as he fucked her with his fingers, his beautiful hair moving with the motions of his tongue. Her flushed cheeks and swollen breasts, covered in a red material that amplified the color of her hair and eyes.

They looked poetically beautiful, as if they were created to compliment each other.

She came long and hard as he massaged her with his fingers and tormented her with his tongue, her arousal leaking out of her in a way that made her slightly embarrassed. She watched through the glass as he licked her up, continuing his motions until she pleaded with him to stop due to her sensitivity, even though she missed his mouth when it left her.

He kissed her thigh again and stood to his feet, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and pulling her into a kiss.

"I suppose you'll have to tell the alien to grab you a new pair of undergarments, " he said when he pulled away, picking the dress up from the sheet on the ground, "these are ruined."

He turned from her then, walking to the main sheet to exit. "I will pay for this and meet you out front. And hurry, I'm sure we've spent enough time here."

She nodded, still catching her breath from their escapade. She felt naughty, doing it outside on a foreign planet like that. Bulma smiled as she touched her bottom lips, her pussy still convulsing at the reminder of his mouth on hers, her body in a relaxed bliss.

She was right. He was a bad man.

OooOooo

This piece was written for the February 2017 Smutfest Day #6 Challenge : Lingerie hosted by the Prince and the Heiress community.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Smutfest Day #7: Bondage|Oracular Spectacular**_

OoooOooo

"Looks like we're in the orbit of Vegetsai finally."

Bulma hummed contentedly as she lay under Vegeta, stroking his bare back. They lay naked together, both spent after an hour of multiple orgasms, gazing out of the window of the pod. The burnt oranges and reds of the Saiyan planet sparkled against the starry skies of space, the gigantic moon slowly orbiting it as the day ended for the Prince's people. Vegeta smirked as he rested his cheek against Bulma's chest. Not only was he going to protect his planet from Frieza's malicious plans, but he was also returning as the coveted legendary Saiyan. He imagined what his father would say, wondering if the King's tongue would swell with pride when he saw the ascension of his son. The anticipation of the forthcoming events jolted through his entire frame, and he tingled with the victory that settled in his mind.

Bulma ran her fingers through his mane, smiling down at him. "What are you thinking?" She said softly, relaxing in the quietness that surrounded their post sex session.

She took him out of his thoughts and he lifted his body so that he was now hovering over her. "Have you ever tasted something that you've been pining over? And when you finally get it, it's sweeter than you could have ever imagined?"

A flirtatious grin stole her face, and she reached down to grab his flaccid member. "Oh _yes_. I absolutely know what that feels like."

He grunted and hung his head, her soft chuckles slapping him in the face. "Why are you so vulgar? Can we ever have a conversation that's not centered around my cock?"

She laughed louder at his abrasiveness but removed her hand nonetheless. Her laughter died down and she sighed pleasurably. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Please continue."

Shaking his head, he trailed the smooth column of her throat, mapping out her skin like she was his personal constellation. "To know that I will be able to not only defeat Frieza, but that I'll be able to do it in a form that was lost upon the Saiyan race for centuries…" he smiled at her wickedly, his eyes glimmering with the sort of satisfaction that only came from a prideful prince, "…makes my blood pump with an excitement that I thought I'd never feel."

She reached up and stroked his cheek, smiling tenderly as she let her eyes soak him up. "You deserve it. You're going to make your people proud and for that you should be excited."

He stared at her for several seconds before turning away , his cheeks hot with embarrassment. She chuckled and pulled down on his face, turning him around and bringing him closer to her. "You don't have to do that, you know."

His brow lowered. "Do what?"

"Hide how you feel from me. It's okay, I won't tell anyone that deep down you're actually a nice guy."

He snarled, his breath tickling her lip. "I'm not a nice man. You said so yourself when we came back on the pod, or have you forgotten?"

Her eyelids drooped, full of lust and want, her pouty lips perching. "I believe I have forgotten. How about you remind me?"

He smirked at her and closed the short gap between them, stealing her lips with a heated kiss. His other hand began exploring down her smooth curves, heading straight to her heated center. She sighed in his mouth as his fingers split her lips and massaged her clit.

"Do you remember now?" he asked huskily, kissing her jaw.

"Mmnn," she shook her head, moving her hips slowly against his fingers, "not yet."

"Such an idiotic female, making me reteach you," he moved his lips down to her slender neck, sucking at the skin gently, hoping to savor the short time they had left with something more satisfactory.

She moaned as his fingers quickened their pace, moving her head to the side as his lips continued feasting upon her neck. Her blue eyes found comfort in the home of the stars, and she watched them dance for her as their pod drifted closer to Vegetesai. Soon they would be docking, leaving the pod with only a few moments to spare before the fight with Frieza went underway. In the meantime, this was what she wanted. His hand between her legs, making her juices coat his fingers with the sweetest type of honey, and his lips on her neck, running over the mark that he imprinted on her with his tongue.

She sighed in both pleasure and relaxation, the planet that was not too far from them beginning to paint the inside of the pod with the colors of a hot, Saiyan morning.

Her visions didn't show her _this_. Sure, they showed the fight, Vegeta's ascension and his victory as he stood over Frieza's limp body, but she hadn't expected to get Vegeta out of the deal. She moaned with his name stained on her tongue, threatening to spill from her lips if she opened them.

Her brow lowered as she studied the outside, specifically the area around Vegetesai. The bright hue of the planet was radiant; illuminating everything that orbited around it as if it were shedding truth in the space of lies.

"Vegeta," she quivered, his hand slipping two fingers into her entrance.

He smirked as she said his name, moving his head down lower to busy his mouth with her pink nipple.

"Vegeta," she repeated, his fingers sliding in and out of her.

He raised an eyebrow at her lack of moaning, choosing to sink his fingers deeper inside, wanting her to scream so loudly that the entire galaxy heard her wails.

Her lips shook and her eyes widened, her words getting caught in her own realization. She pushed them out of the ladder of her throat forcibly, urgency dripped over the statement: "Something's not right."

He brought his head up and looked at her like she was insane. She had never complained when his fingers were searching the insides of her before, so what had changed that she had a problem now? He looked at her eyes, the palest shade of blue that he had yet to see, her haunted stare glued tightly to the window. He ceased his fingers from their exploration and followed her gaze, wondering what the hell had caught her attention like that.

Hovering right over Vegetesai was a lone spaceship.

Vegeta cocked an eyebrow, and he turned his face back to her, "Why does a spaceship have you so-"

His breath hitched in his throat as he looked at her. Her irises had turned a milky white, blending in with the rest of her eyes, and she lay still as the floor beneath her. "Bulma," he shook her, swallowing down the panic that rose in him, "What the hell happened to you?!"

She continued to lay like that, her face unmoving as if frozen in time. He lightly slapped her cheek, his fingers desperately caressing her face. After several tense seconds, she inhaled as if she had been choking, her body convulsing underneath him. Her eyes met his, full of fear and anguish, and she pushed up on him with as much weight as she could. "VEGETA, MOV-!"

Her words were cut off by a blinding light and an explosion, the inside of the space pod decorated with multi colors as if the sky around them came alive with fireworks.

The last thing that he thought before the blackness took over was how Bulma wore the same phantom look of death that he was uncomfortably familiar with.

oooOooo

Vegeta groaned, realizing that he was no longer in the same position as he previous was, his body cold at the lack of warmth that was Bulma. He attempted to lift his head up, only to find that he couldn't, and his mind went alive with panic.

His body felt heavy, as if the entire galaxy was thrown on his back, and his muscles ached with a pain that he had never felt before, coursing through his veins like hot fire.

He turned his head, slowly realizing that he was no longer in the confinement of the space pod. He was lying face down on a table of some sort, his arms and legs confined to the legs with a strong bonding rope. He tried to use all of his strength to break the ties, but to no avail. What the hell had even happened?

A shrill laughter erupted behind him, making him go completely rigid. White feet came around his peripherals, confirming the owner of the voice that made his stomach churn.

 _Frieza_.

"Why, it seems like the monkey prince is awake!" The feet moved around Vegeta's vision until he could no longer see them, letting him know that Frieza was standing over his side. "It pleases me to know that the pod transmission wasn't incorrect at all! You _have_ gotten stronger! A blast like that should've taken you days to recover! "

Vegeta's eyes widened. _Pod transmission?_ Was it possible that Frieza heard exactly what had transpired in the pod? From he and Bulma's heated sex, to the conversations about his fate with death?

"Tsk tsk tsk," Frieza clicked his teeth, "I'm quite offended, Vegeta. To think that you and that whore would believe that I was stupid enough to fall for your treachery. Getting me to leave the planet was a nice touch, a nice touch indeed." Vegeta growled lowly in his throat, wondering just how things had gone so horribly fucking wrong. He knew that Bulma's visions weren't guaranteed, but why had they gone so askew?

Bulma.

He had been so frazzled in his thoughts that he hadn't searched for her. Terror crawled down his chest, landing into the pit of his stomach and he clenched his teeth. "Where the fuck is she, Frieza?"

Frieza laughed again, quite proudly and walked back to Vegeta's face. "You mean the whore? _My_ whore? The one that I was so kind to gift you with?" He leaned down so that Vegeta could see his face finally, pressing his disgusting lips close to Vegeta's ear. "She stunk of a monkey prince. I had to throw her out."

Vegeta felt all of the breaths in him dissipate at Frieza's words. Bulma was…was… _dead_?

"How does that make you feel, Vegeta? So much loss for you in one day. First your entire race, then your home planet, and now the cunt that you slept in. What a pity."

Wait.

What the hell did he just say?

"Oh, my I've seemed to have spoiled things for you! I wanted to wait and torment you with them. I had it all planned out. Would you like to hear it?" Frieza stood up again, smiling down at his conquest. When Vegeta was too frozen to speak, Frieza lifted his leg with only a small percentage of his strength, ramming his knee into Vegeta's face. Vegeta groaned out from the impact, blood leaking from his nose. Frieza chuckled darkly, pressing his finger to his chin. "Well since you _begged_ me and all, I'll skip the dramatics and just tell you. I'll start with how I killed your pathetic father, followed by every disgusting Saiyan in the vicinity. And when I grew tired of them dying so easily, I just decided to give myself a good show. I love fireworks, you see,and it turns out Vegetesai made a beautiful show when I obliterated it!"

No.

 _No._

Something foreign crawled in Vegeta's eyes, welling up in the corner and sliding down his cheek. He huffed as the emotions possessed him, taking advantage of his current predicament as he cried to the floor of Frieza's room, his tears mixing with his blood as it dripped to the floor below. His anger rushed over him, attempting to call forth the dormant power that he had recently unlocked, but he came up empty. It was if he had never visited Onra, had never gone through the tribulations of her tests, had never unlocked the power to begin with.

But why?

"Oh ho ho!" Frieza chortled, "I forgot the best part! How do you enjoy the ki draining ropes that I've been working on? I was planning on saving them to enslave the Saiyan race, but it appears I won't need that experiment now! So it looks like this special occasion was reserved for you, my little monkey."

He walked away from the table, heading towards the exit of the lab. "Get some rest, my pet. We have many experiments to conduct on you. You're going to make the best addition to the Frieza army, with this legendary power you have and all."

Frieza's footsteps receded out of the door, his mocking laughter following him. Vegeta marinated on everything that had been recently thrown at him. His planet was gone, his people killed, his father had met his demise, and Bulma….

…. _Bulma_.

Nothing tasted as bitter than when he let her name leave his bloody mouth, spilling from his lips with such finality. The woman that he claimed…was gone? Like that?

This unsavory fact made him break down, making him realize that for the first time in the universe, while stuck somewhere he didn't know, with his body tied to the table like some bondage kink, Vegeta was _alone._

oooOooo

 **This piece was written for the February 2017 Smutfest, hosted by The Prince and The Heiress community.**

 **(not a lot of smut this chapter I know, I promise it will definitely get made up for the bonus prompts.)**


	7. Chapter 7

_**Smutfest Bonus Day #8: Fetish| Oracular Spectacular**_

 _ **OoooOooo**_

It had been weeks since Vegeta was held in Frieza's captivity, or at least it _felt_ like weeks.

Vegeta had merely stopped counting down the days. At first it was like clockwork. At dawn, one of Frieza's minions would enter the bright room and adjust the Ki ropes, force feeding Vegeta whatever slop that the Icejin tyrant saw fit. And then the servant would leave, and Vegeta wouldn't see another face until midday, when a fat pink alien would force Vegeta up by the neck and drag him down to the lower chambers of the ship, where Frieza would be waiting to 'train'. Vegeta quickly learned that the 'training' sessions were simply a tactic to break him down until he verbally committed to subservience, but the Saiyan prince refused to stoop so low as to fight for the Icejin, especially after learning what he had done. And as soon as the refusal would leave his lips, Frieza would beat him without mercy, leaving Vegeta broken and bloody and silently begging for death.

The sweet permanent darkness would never come, however, as Frieza would order the pink alien and another creature with an annoyingly handsome face to accompany the prince to a healing tank, so that the entire process could begin the following day.

And that's where Vegeta found himself currently, floating in a vat of some green liquid substance, his broken bones and bloody scrapes slowly healing while he contemplated his next actions.

His pride was the only thing that he had left in this world, and it was slowly beginning to crack. Perhaps, Frieza would get what he wished for after all. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to fight for him, when he had nothing left to fight for himself.

"Are you really going to give in so easily? I never thought you'd be the type."

Vegeta's eyes sprung open at the surprised voice, sounding achingly familiar in his chest. No…no…it was impossible, he thought as he scanned the laboratory, his eyes burning as the green liquid seeped in. The desk and chairs taunted him, making him fully believe that he was indeed going insane. Feeling a heavy weight sink in his belly, he began to drift his eyes shut, wanting nothing more than to float and let his mind wander far away…

"Don't ignore me, Vegeta! Look harder!"

He groaned and kept his eyes shut, oxygen bubbles dancing on his cheeks. _"Stop it,"_ he thought angrily, _"you're not real, so stop haunting me."_

"Oh?" The phantom voice seemed to reply, and Vegeta felt a warmth tickle down to his feet, causing him to slowly open his lids. Dainty fingers, the color of milk, were pressed against the glass of the tank, placed right above his chest. If he didn't have an oxygen mask on, he would have stopped breathing entirely when his eyes locked with cerulean blue.

 _Bulma_.

She leaned in closer so that her face was in clear view, her skin stained green from the liquid, her lips curved into a slight smile. "Miss me?" she said, giggling.

" _Impossible._ " His chest sank as he drank her in, her face seemingly flawless for someone who was dead. She was just as he remembered her from that day, lying underneath him and gasping as he stroked her with every ounce of energy he could muster. " _You're not here. You can't be."_

"Why can't I be?" She frowned, and Vegeta wanted nothing more than to kiss her right then. She was always challenging him, and as much as it was frustrating, it was one of the many things that captivated him.

" _Because I'm not really talking and you're not really responding. Bulma, you're…you're…"_ he found himself swallowing thickly, unable to say or think the word that described her current predicament.

"Dead?" She finished for him, her features dropping in sadness. She bowed her head, looking down at her feet, and for the first time Vegeta realized that she was naked. "I know." She brought her face up to meet his, her eyes swimming with tears. "I'm sorry, Vegeta. I really wanted to stay with you."

He clenched his teeth as he let her words sink in his belly. He brought a fist up to the glass, slamming against it, his eyes opened wildly as his emotions possessed him all at once. " _Then why didn't you!? You said you saw my victory! You said you believed in me! You took me to that fucking rock and you helped make me the legendary! You thought I could protect you and…"_ his fist shook as it dropped from the glass, his eyes stinging with reality, " _…and I failed you._ "

Her features scrunched together as she placed a palm over her chest, a tear racing down her rosy cheek. "You didn't fail me, Vegeta." Her words were soft, like the wind whispering on a still night, and she wiped he cheek. "I still believe in you." She pressed her forehead on the glass, diverting her eyes away from his. "I miss you."

He felt something tighten inside, a longing that he hadn't experienced in his life before taking hold of him, and he found himself putting his palm on the glass, covering hers. " _Bulma…I…."_ he was still no good at this, even if she wasn't really there to hear it. " _…._ _ **how**_ _do I get out of here? Tell me! How can I avenge my people?...how can I avenge_ _ **you**_ _?"_

Her eyes found solace in his again, her sadness mixing with determination, her fingers petting the thick layer of glass that separated them, almost as if she were really stroking his hand. "You have the power inside of you, Vegeta. Frieza can't take that away from you. Regardless of the obstacles, I still know in my heart that the finish goal is indefinite."

" _You don't understand. I can't do anything with these ki ropes on me right now. They drain me from tapping into my true power."_

Her lips opened quizzically, a blue eyebrow perching on her forehead. "Ki ropes? I don't see any ki ropes."

His eyes narrowed as he looked at her, instantly getting irritated with her taunts. " _Don't be absurd, woman. Clearly I'm bound in here by these damned things. Frieza has been working relentlessly at making sure they drain me more and more until I can't fight."_

"Hmmm," she pressed a finger to her lips and then turned around, her ample cheeks swaying with her graceful steps. He wanted to demand where she was going, beg that she come back to him, even if it was just a phantom through a looking glass. But then she stopped near one of the tables, opening a drawer on the side. She brought something up in her hand, looking over it curiously. She walked back to the glass, holding the object up to his face. "You mean these?"

Vegeta's eyes bulged as he raked over the ropes in her hand. He glanced down at his own healing body and realized that he was free. How had Frieza managed to make such a slip in an otherwise precise and flawless plan? A victorious smile began to steal his face.

"These seem so weak and absurd compared to your power," she began to fumble with the ropes, watching him with a certain hunger in her eye. She lightly moved the ropes over her collarbone, down to her succulent breasts, purring as the twine brushed over her nipples. "They seem more like a play thing than anything else. What do you think, Vegeta?" She walked over to the desk, leaning back on it and separated her legs, putting herself on full display. A groan resonated in Vegeta's throat as he feasted on her ethereal sexiness, his cock twitching as it reminded him that it missed her too.

"Just think,"" she said seductively, "when you get out of here, we could use these as foreplay. The big and bad prince of all Saiyans having his way with a poor, helpless Seer woman. Quite the fetish, huh?" She pouted teasingly, binding the ropes around her wrists and placing her hands behind her head. "Wouldn't you like that? To be able to do whatever you want to me? Just the thought alone is getting me pretty excited," she bit her lip and moaned, and Vegeta swore he could smell her arousal even through the glass. " _God_ ," she groaned, "I can't wait to feel you inside of me again. I've never had a man make me cum like you do, or even turn me on like you do." She tilted her head back and showcased her swan like neck, the mark where his teeth had been standing out against her porcelain skin. "I belong to you, remember?"

Even through this vision, the sounds of her begging and moaning were making him hard. He wanted to break the glass open and sink his aching erection deep in her, the grooves of her core would mold perfectly over him and he would stroke her until she cried, until she begged him to stop, until he came inside of her with such passion that it made him feel like he was having an out of body experience.

But then reality sank in.

He could break the glass, but she wouldn't be there. The empty space and the cool air and the thoughts of what could have beens would plague him, but she would be gone, her memory remaining. He growled, completely pissed with himself for thinking her up, and more irate with her for letting him.

"You know," she spoke, watching him carefully, "I remember my father telling me something once. And I don't know if it will come to fruition, considering no one has ever done it before."

" _What?_ "

"He said that when all of the Seers had died, _Onra_ would give her life to birth a new generation. We create balance in the world, you see, and without our people, life wouldn't flourish properly. Such a sacrifice would she make, when necessary."

 _Balance,_ he thought with rekindled warmth, _that explains why she was my balance._

She smirked, clearly having heard him. "I didn't know you felt that way, my prince. I always knew you were sweet."

He scoffed, looking away with embarrassment just as he had done the last time he saw her. He remembered her words, _'you don't have to do that'_ , and looked back at her instead, at least honoring that wish she had.

" _I don't care about a new generation of Seers. I care about…"_

"…I know, but hear me out, would you? _Onra_ takes about three moon cycles to fully birth a new generation. During that time, she preserves her energy to create a populous strong enough to carry out her will. Which got me thinking, if she has enough energy to birth a generation," her eyes locked in with Vegeta's, a plea swimming through, "do you think she has enough energy to bring life into _one_? One that could birth a new generation _for_ her?"

Vegeta inhaled with a sudden spike of hope. Was it…was it possible? No…he quickly remedied…because Bulma wasn't _actually_ here. She wasn't really telling him this. This was his own mind coaxing him into feeling better so that he didn't have to drown with the sorrows of her loss. " _That's far fetched_ ," he replied, still holding on to the fat that perhaps she had really thought of a resolution.

She shrugged her shoulders, looking away sadly. "Maybe. But it was just a thought."

He wanted to reach out and touch her, tell her that she wasn't allowed to look so distraught with him around, demand it even. What he wouldn't give to have her under him, in the protection of his arms, floating in the middle of space where they could be unbothered. What if it were possible? The small mustard seed of faith caused him to ask, " _What's the prayer? To summon her, I mean._ "

Bulma turned slowly to him, a small stain of relief imprinted in her eyes. " _Rotuli vultar ni Onra al michi donturi._ It means, 'Come forth the virtuous Onra, for the time has come;.' Like I stated, I don't know if it will even work, but wouldn't it be nice if it could? So that we could have more pleasurable adventures together?" She leaned against the glass, pressing her pink lips on it as if it were his face, and he carefully placed two fingers where her cheeks lay. She smiled, closing her eyes as if she could actually feel his warmth. "Your body is just about healed, Vegeta," she said softly, opening her eyes once more, "and someone is coming."

Just then, he heard the panel to the door being unlocked and he looked behind her as it slowly opened. He became frightened for her, and looked back to tell her to hide, but she was gone. Oddly to him, an outline of her lips remained on the glass, as if she was really there in the first place.

"Frieza must really be growing impatient if he wants to have _two_ training sessions in one day," Vegeta watched as the pink obese creature and the not-so-bad- on-the-eyes alien entered, with their stupid smug grins plastered on their faces. The grotesque looking meat package was speaking, his beady eyes glaring at Vegeta through the glass. "This son of a bitch is really gonna feel the lord's wrath today!"

"Oh most certainly, Dodoria," the other one spoke, "and it will be a marvelous thing to watch. I can't wait to see the monkey prince suffer. Maybe Frieza will even let us have a swing or two."

"Heh, maybe." The one named Dodoria walked closer to the tank, staring Vegeta down. "And look at this , Zarbon, he's even awake. The ingrate sure has dedication, I'll tell you that much. The tank says you're at 99.3 percent, Vegeta. Let's take you out of there so Frieza can beat you back down to one percent ," he laughed maliciously, his grubby fingers pressing the button to drain the tank.

"Dodoria…" Zarbon spoke, an uneasiness in his tone, "why are the ki ropes on the table?"

Dodoria whipped his head around to the other alien, before turning back to Vegeta, the color drained from his face. "I-I thought you put them on him before we put him in the tank, Zarbon!"

"You imbecile!" Zarbon screeched, "I told _you_ to do it!"

"Fucking hell," Dodoria whispered, frantically trying to stop the water from draining. "Quick, Zarbon! Turn the valve to the sleeping solution!"

"I don't believe you have time for that, bastard," Vegeta finally spoke, his face contorted to an evil grin. He could feel the power returning to him, and he reached down in the lowest pits of his belly as he gathered it, screaming loudly as he let it soak through his veins and rupture the glass around him. The familiar golden hue layered him like a second skin, and Vegeta laughed with satisfaction as the invincibility he longed for came back.

"Zarbon!" Dodoria turned around and screamed, "help me!" But the alien was gone, along with the ki ropes.

Dodoria froze in place as a dark chuckle whispered in his ear. "What's the matter?" Vegeta taunted, "Don't you want to play with me?"

Dodoria turned his head, wanting to turn around and at least attempt a battle, but his neck kept twisting in a loop until it fell from his shoulders unto the ground, his mouth still agape in a surprised expression.

oooOooo

In the basement of the ship, Frieza was enjoying a glass of wine while waiting in the training chambers. It felt impeccably good, he discovered, to have the entire galaxy at his fingertips. And with Vegeta's new found power to use at his own free will, there was not a soul alive that could stop him. Such a marvelous feeling, such a sweet tasting wine.

"My Lord!" Zarbon raced into the training quarters, his olive green skin paled. Frieza looked down at his hands, the ki ropes dangling from his fists.

Frieza felt an uncontrollable anger course through him and he grit his teeth. "Zarbon, you had better be telling me that the ropes need adjusting to."

"M-my L-Lord," Zarbon attempted to say, but the fear in his words caused him to stutter, "it seems as if Dodoria has forgotten to put the ropes on Vegeta before he went in the tank."

Frieza clenched his glass so tightly that it shattered into microscopic pieces, falling to his feet in a waterfall of shards. "You fucking failures!" He screamed, his tail lashing behind him wildly, "You had one job!"

"F-forgive me, my lordship, but it was D-Dodoria who made the error. Surely, if you and I work together, we can-" Zarbon's plea was cut short as green liquid fell from his lips, Frieza's tail piercing his stomach. His eyes rattled desperately as he looked at the Icejin, but then they turned to ice as Frieza removed his tail, flicking off the blood and entrails of Zarbon.

"You fool," he seethed, "I don't work with weaklings."

He moved urgently through the training chambers, trying to get to Vegeta and end it. He could blow up the ship, he thought, knowing he could survive in the vacuum of space. He turned a corner in the hallway, making his decision. Yes, he smiled with confidence, blowing up his ship would most certainly have to do.

No sooner had the thought penetrated his mind that he felt an uncomfortable warmth at his backside. He froze in place, not even bothering to turn around and face the Saiyan prince. Time was limited, and he had to preserve what precious minutes he had left to obliterate the ship.

He pushed the power to his hands, preparing to blow it right then and there, when Vegeta grabbed his hands, pulling them tightly behind Frieza's back.

"Oh no you don't, you piece of shit," Vegeta said darkly, "you and I have other business than you taking the coward's way out."

oooOooo

It was finished.

And it should have felt glorious.

Vegeta stood in a pool of purple blood, his fists clenched at his side as he watched it stain the carpeting of the ships hallway. Next to him was the lifeless body of Frieza, the ex-tyrant's eyes enlarged with a ghostly shade of white, his mouth twisted into an enraged snarl. Vegeta had taken his time with their battle, making sure that he made the asshole suffer for his sins. Frieza put up a good fight, he would admit, but in the end he was simply no match for the strength of the legendary.

He had done it. He had avenged his people, his father, his planet. He made sure that Frieza knew that every powerful blow carried a reason, and that when Vegeta's fist made a clean strike through his belly, it was done for _her_.

And yet, he felt empty. As if the victory was nothing more than a dream. Who would sing of his praises? Where was the absolute satisfaction that came with the prophecy being fulfilled? Nothing, there was absolutely nothing except for the blood at his feet and the remains of Frieza on his hands. It was bittersweet, with more emphasis on the bitter than the sweet.

"Bulma," he looked down at his fists, tightening and loosening his knuckles to feel alive, feel _something_ , "you're a liar. I've done what you said I was destined to do, and there's no glory. Only a ship with nowhere to go." _And no one to go with_ , he thought.

His brow lowered as he considered the aftermath of everything. A prince of no one. An _orphaned_ prince of no one. A lover of no one. A claimer of no one. Just unlimited power at his fingertips that still surged with every clenching and unclenching of his fists.

He thought that this was enough. That the power would be enough. But it wasn't, and it wasn't because of his people, it wasn't because of his father, and it wasn't because of his lost planet.

It was because of _her_.

He remembered her ghost through the glass, the way she looked at him like the ache of his loss hurt her as well. She had helped him, even if she was a figment of his imagination, and this time he couldn't even thank her. Onra had told him to protect her, and he failed. He was a failure of a prince, and he deserved to die.

He could end it now, taking the way out like Frieza tried to, leaving no traces of any remaining Saiyan or Icejin. It was cowardly, he knew this, but yet he considered it.

Until a voice called out to him, from the depths of his soul.

 _Remember the prayer._

He looked up slowly, the words spoken being the voice of his own. The prayer, the far fetched words that would most likely just make him feel foolish, adding another layer of pain on top of the one that lingered in the back of his throat.

 _You have already made the impossible possible. What's the harm in attempting another?_

But perhaps he would try, at the sake of his own pride, for Bulma.

And so he kneeled, remembering her chastising at his lack of respect previously, and muttered the words with a shred of faith:

" _Rotuli vultar ni Onra al michi donturi."_

oooOooo

 **This piece was written for the February 2017 Smutfest Bonus Day#8 , hosted by The Prince and the Heiress community.**

 **One more prompt to go! Once again, sorry for the lack of smut, but next chapter will make up for it!**


	8. Chapter 8

_**Smutfest Bonus [FINAL!] Prompt Day #9: Fantasy| Oracular Spectacular**_

oooOooo

There was nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

The words had left his lips, stained with his impending hope. Somewhere deep inside of himself, he had hoped that an explosion of power would suffocate the room, and Onra would reveal herself bearing the gift of Bulma. But as he spoke them repeatedly, dribble falling to his chin at his harsh pronunciation, he felt the last thread of his sanity break, completely consumed with the idea that even though he had won the battle, he had indeed lost the war.

Vegeta pounded his fists against the blood stained carpet, splattering the substance on his cheeks due to the impact. He sunk his forehead to the carpet, letting out a gut wrenching yell that burned his lungs.

"What the hell was the point!?" he spat out, his lips ghosting over the carpet, "What was the point of saving this goddamned galaxy if I have nothing to show for it! No planet, no people, no _you._ " Something burned his eyes, a foreign substance that he was sure would have made him a mockery in the royal Saiyan court if any warrior was around to see it.

Tears for another. Tears for a loss.

Tears for a strong emotion that made his heart beat, although the words that expressed it would never escape his lips.

"Bulma," he said softly, clenching his eyes tight, "you weren't there while I was healing after all. I am a fool. I should have….I should have appreciated our time more." He opened them slowly, gazing into the expression of Frieza's soulless stare, and he finally powered down, feeling the energy drain out of him. He had failed to protect the only two women in the entire universe who should have mattered, so what did that make him? Was he even worthy of calling himself a Saiyan prince? Or did the fact that he was mourning so openly over their deaths strip him of his warrior nature?

Vegeta snarled, feeling the impact of too many emotions welling in him at once. He mentally cursed Onra for her not showing. And although deep down inside of him he knew that it wasn't really her fault, someone had to take the blame for this ache in his chest. Someone had to remove the pain that he felt before it consumed him whole.

 _Say it._

His eyes widened as the words floated through his brain like an internal whisper, although louder and more forceful than anything his mind could have come up with.

 _Say it._

"Enough!" he screamed, raking his hands through his hair, "I won't be made a fool of again!" He fell backwards and sat on his rear, clutching his scalp desperately and throwing his head into his lap. "I won't make the mistake of thinking you're here when you're not!"

 _Set yourself free and say it._

He threw his head back and roared to the ceiling of the spaceship, feeling his throat burn as he allowed his true feelings to spiral out. Those damned words in the voice of her. Would her ghost attach to him like a scorned shadow, haunting him throughout the rest of his days? He wailed in agony, feeling like he would be unable to bare it.

 _Say how you feel, Vegeta_.

"Fuck!" he screamed, feeling tears attach to his skin without remorse, though without his consent. "What do you want from me, woman!? Why do you torment me!? Rest in peace already and save the living for the damned!" He breathed erratically, his chest rising and falling with uneven beats, his brow sweating with stress. He sighed as he tried to control himself, feeling like he was losing the fight before it began. "How I feel? You want to know how I feel?" He felt like a madman, like his mind was purposely spinning out of control to show his own maniac reflection, his sanity barely gripping on the edge of his consciousness. He laughed in that moment, feeling like his spiking adrenaline was fleeting, settling into something more chaotic.

"Fine! I'm fucking pissed off! I marked you, I claimed you as _my_ mate, and you showed how weak you were to succumb to Frieza's attack so easily! I thought you were worthy of a Saiyan prince, like you could take more of a beating than just my cock pounding into you! I feel like you knew this would happen, like you allowed yourself to waltz into my life and make me _feel_ things that I never fucking wanted to! Like you knew how much it hurt me in regards to my mother, and you thought you could fix it! You made me do things I would never do, not even for my own father, and then you left me. You made me…" he bit his lip in frustration, feeling the words choke in his throat.

 _Say it_.

"…you made me love you."

The words burnt his lips as he said them like acid, but he felt a weight lift off of his chest at the admission. He took a deep breath and leaned back against the wall, staring openly at the ceiling. He chuckled lightly, mainly at himself, and hit the back of the wall with his head. "There. Are you happy now? You made me love you, and now it doesn't even matter. I would have been good to you. I would have fought nations for you. And if I could go back, I would have died for you so that you wouldn't be lost in the darkness. A shame, isn't it? You and all your light wasted in the world of shadows."

Vegeta suddenly felt dizzy, and he clutched his head as a migraine settled into his brain, practically blinding him. He closed his eyes and groaned as his skull felt like it was going to split in two. And then just as swiftly as it came, it was done, and he felt lighter somehow, as if he were free of any pain of the mind and the body. He opened his eyes slowly, expecting to see the piercing white lights of the ships hallway.

Instead, he was greeted to soft lulls of water and blue tinted walls, and a pillar that set in the middle of a room protecting a statue.

Vegeta stood to his knees in awe, complete disbelief surrounding him of where he ended up.

Onra's domain.

"What the…." He whispered, feeling a small stain of hope imprint on his heart. Her statue vibrated, causing the water below his feet to quake with small ripples, and then the rock completely deteriorated, much unlike the first time.

Onra's spirit rose from the ashes of rubble, bigger and more hypnotizing then their first encounter. Vegeta fell to his knees again, his mouth completely agape. There was no way in hell, was there?

"Saiyan Prince," Onra spoke, her voice melodic and booming against the cave walls, "the blood of my last child calls to me from beyond the grave. It appears she wishes to come back, does she not?"

Vegeta blinked slowly, unable to comprehend what was truly going on. He nodded, shutting his mouth and clenching his teeth. 

"I see," Onra said, her phantom floating down to him. She touched the sides of his face, staring into the depths of his soul, and when Vegeta looked upon her misty features, he could see Bulma staring back at him. "The prayer you used is sacred, not meant for a warrior who is not a Seer. And especially not meant for a prince with a cold heart and warm lips. I do not answer to that." A small smile danced upon her lips, watching the confusion in his face. "But your words have called to me. The love you have for my child has made me rethink my decision. Tell me, Saiyan prince. Do you wish to have her as well?"

"Yes." The response left his lips before it could marinate in his brain, but he didn't regret it. If there was an opportunity, even a small one, then he would take it. And he would not fall victim to the curse of his pride in the process.

Onra nodded, her cold wisps of hands leaving Vegeta's olive toned cheek. "Very well. I will be willing to do this favor, but nothing is without sacrifice. You have lost your people, and you will no longer know the full Saiyan blood. To a prideful race, that is a very demanding token."

"So be it," he said desperately, leaning into her shadow, "for Bulma, so be it."

"You have not heard my request. Does it not matter what I ask of you?"

"Not if you're willing to bring her back to me."

"I see." Onra waved her hands in the air, blue smoke dancing from her fingertips, a single image in the middle of her palms. It was a blue planet; small in size compared to his, but large enough that Vegeta could see life of a species. They looked like he and her, but he could tell they were weak in terms of strength and power. "This planet sits at the farthest end of the galaxy. It is peaceful in nature, and the beings that reside here care more about families than wars. It is a perfect place to start the rebirth of my people, if you will accept my request." She moved her hands again, this time showing a closer look at the life forms in their natural habitat. It looked boring, in his opinion, with the men working and the women with babes at their teet. No training, no fighting, just an abundance of peace that Vegeta wasn't accustomed to.

"This planet is called Earth. My request is that you and Bulma reign over this planet, protecting it from any outside foes if need be, and that you repopulate the Seer people. Your children will have children, and those children will produce generations that will help this galaxy from troublesome times. The mixings of a Seer and a Saiyan will be maginificent. But outside of protecting the planet, no wars shall you partake in. You must protect the Queen, and you will serve her as a King. And you will watch over your children in my absence. And then someday, the two of you will come back to this domain and lie dormant, being to your children what I have been to you." She pressed her palms together and the image was gone. "Do we strike a deal, Saiyan prince?"

Vegeta let the words sink in his brain. No more unnecessary fights, no tapping into the power of the legendary, no training. Just…a domesticated lifestyle and protection over his family? He swallowed hard, realizing exactly what he was giving up.

And then he held his chin up with pride, knowing what he would lose if he did not agree.

"We have a deal, Onra," he said with confidence, "now bring her back to me."

Onra nodded pleasantly, hovering to the top of the cave. "I am most pleased, Vegeta, former Prince of the Saiyans. Now rise and become Vegeta, King of the Seers, King of the Saiyans, King to our great Queen Bulma. Farewell." A gush of light erupted through her, and her already smoke exterior became even more transparent. She looked down on him with a warm smile. " _Finri Otula_ ," she said quietly, "it is finished."

oooOooo

There was singing in his ears, or at least that's what he would call it.

A noise of something he had never heard before awoke him from his slumber, and he opened his eyes, his lids heavy.

A bright light pierced through sheer panels of fabrics draped over windows. A yellow sun sat magnificently in a pale blue sky, completely contrasting the mornings that Vegeta was used to back home. He sat up abruptly, watching as some white flying creatures soared past the window, singing the song that caused him to wake.

"They're called birds, apparently."

Vegeta turned to behind him immediately, realizing that he was on a lush white bed, softer than any material he had ever felt. He was convinced that he was going crazy again, but the wind on his skin and the features of her face told him otherwise.

"Bulma," he said as if speaking her name would cause her to vanish, and he reached out to touch her.

She giggled, tucking a strand behind her ear as she bathed in the glow of the sunlight outside. "Hello, Vegeta."

He crossed the bed instantly, throwing his arms around her waist and pulling her into a heated kiss. She moaned against him, and he relished of how alive she felt in his grasp. He pulled back and watched her, drowning in her blue eyes that spoke of many truths, that sang many songs of him.

"It worked." He was pleased beyond anything else in the world. She nodded, biting her lip. "So this is not a fantasy? This is real?"

"No fantasy," she ran her fingers over his bite mark, still healing against her porcelain skin, "this is the real life. We are getting a second chance on this foreign planet, Vegeta."

He never realized how much he enjoyed the way she said his name. A hunger rose in him at the lack of contact between them for what felt like an eternity, and he pushed her back on the bed, holding her arms above her head. He looked down upon her greedily, soaking in every component of her skin that made her Bulma. _His_ Bulma. The corners of his mouth lifted slightly, crookedly, and used a hand to stroke her cheek, moving downward over her smooth flesh.

"I've missed you," she breathed, pushing into his fingers, "seeing you even through the looking glass of death wasn't enough."

He ceased his actions with his fingers and gazed upon her. "So that was really you? You weren't a figment of my imagination?"

She shook her head, a playful grin stealing her lips. "That was really me, Vegeta. Seers have many abilities, and the option to speak to someone that you've bonded with from beyond the grave is one of them. So I suppose I have you to thank for that."

Vegeta watched her in awe, running his fingers over her bite mark. So she had been there because he marked her? His own selfish request had worked out for the better?

He smiled in his own arrogant delight and placed his mouth over the wound, kissing her gently.

She gasped against him as his tongue tickled her, his knees separating her legs. "Vegeta," she breathed, and it gave him an ominous déjà vu' of the last time she had said his name like that, in a circumstance such as this. _That was a different time_ , he told himself, _and the threat that loomed over us is no more_. At his coaxing, he sucked on her skin a little harder at the glory that this moment gave. She was alive, she was under him, and she was his.

He let her arms go, wanting her to use her hands where they may, and kissed her again, enjoying how soft her lips felt in between his. She threw her arms around his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist, lifting her bottom off of the bed towards his cock, begging for him to enter her. So as not to disappoint, he complied, sensing her lack of patience for foreplay. He broke away from the kiss as his tip found home in her warm core, and the familiarity of her juices made him harder, if that were even possible, and a growl emitted from him that only she could produce. He would take his time, he would dance upon her flesh and make her cum. He would heal any traces that death may have soiled on her skin, and he would be gentle so as not to hurt her.

"Fuck me," she said lowly, her cheeks beginning to flush, "fuck me like I'm yours."

Well, shit. So much for that.

Laughing, he slowly filled her up, enjoying how her face scrunched up as she got used to him again. He breathed sharply as he put all of him inside, hanging his head low, his chin touching his chest. The grip of her legs around his waist became tighter, and Vegeta began to comply to her request as he thrusted in and out of her, stretching her walls to their capacity, his skin smacking against hers.

"Oh my god," she said as she bit her lip, their bodies rocking against the sheets ferociously. Vegeta groaned as she clenched her muscles around his erect cock, holding him tightly inside of her. She had never done that before, but there was something territorial about it that was making him come undone. "God, I've missed this!" she moaned as he entered her again, the speed of his strokes increasing, her wetness dousing him with their magic until he thought he would sink into her all together.

She wailed as he pounded into her, choking on her own moans as she laid victim to the overall feeling of bliss. Vegeta closed his eyes as he basked in the overwhelmingly pleasurable feelings that she was giving him. What a way to say 'welcome back', he thought.

"Look at me," her pitchy and needy voice demanded, and he opened his eyes to find her staring at him with a smirk on her features, "I want to watch you cum."

Fuck, how good it felt to have his own words used against him.

He placed his palm on the top of her hair, running his thumb over her forehead, and used to the other to stroke her clit as he sank into her repeatedly, feeling the powerful waves of an orgasm threaten to lap him up.

"V-Vegeta~!" she wailed, and he knew that he was hitting the sensitive spot inside of her that she liked, and he felt her juices gush out of her as he stroked it carefully, making sure to run his cock over the area with every thrust.

Bulma pulled his neck down closer to her as she opened her mouth, silent words spilling out and wrapping around their bodies. He continued to stroke her hair as he watched her, their intense eye contact only adding to building heat in his lower belly. "C-Cum with me," she managed to say, although it was low and breathy and he barely heard it.

He rocked his hips into her faster, she returning the steady rhythm, and he felt her body begin to shudder. She cried out his name as she came, soiling the bed with the river of her orgasm, and he rode out the pleasured waves with her, thinking of how he never wanted to lose this again.

They attempted to catch their breaths together as Vegeta collapsed on top of her, feeling his seed flow into her with ease, her body accepting it with the grace of the queen she was. He rested his cheek against her breast, relaxation beginning to wash over him as he settled into her lush pillows, and he heard Bulma give a contented sigh.

"Thank you," she said, her words slurring and he knew she was most likely sleepy, "for bringing me back. For all of this."

He nodded, unable to find the words to accompany how he really felt. She had heard him on the ship, and in his mind that was enough for him to say it. His actions, his body, their sex would speak the rest, and he hoped she didn't demand any more than that.

"So this is our new home, huh?" Her eyes roamed over their room, the pristine white walls and the marble floors, the high ceilings draped with sheer curtains that matched the windows, the outside of their home covered in lush green grasses that seemed to carry on for acres, decorated by purple and red flowers. "Onra sure outdid herself."

"Would you expect anything less for royalty?" he asked with a smugness to his voice, he too feeling the effects of an oncoming nap beginning to possess him, "You may be new to this, but I can assure you this is how we _should_ live. I would resurrect that rock and demand her to fight me if she put us in anything less than this."

"Don't disrespect her, Vegeta," Bulma teased, running her deft fingers through his scalp, "she would more than likely win that fight."

"Hmph," he retaliated, "then she wouldn't get those children she asked for."

"Children…" Bulma let the word play off of her lips, marinating on how that sounded, "Me a mother? And you a father? She was crazy to trust us."

"Who else will do it?" He lifted himself up so that he was directly looking down on her, "Who else is suitable to birth an entire nation?"

"I suppose," she smiled, wrapping her arms around his thick neck, "although that sounds like a lot of work." She rose an eyebrow and looked at him seductively. "Perhaps we should get started again? Time waits for no one."

He kissed her in compliance, knowing her words had never been more true, and lost himself inside of her, playing out this fantasy of a life that Onra had given them with the determination to never let it slip from his grasp. She was his Queen, and he her King, and together they would remain until destiny called them back to the domain to watch over the children they created.

And for the first time in his life, Vegeta felt completely happy.

 _Fin_

oooOooo

 _ **And that is how life was created, ladies and gentlemen. Forget every theory you've ever heard, the only Big Bang that caused life on Earth was the one between Bulma and Vegeta.**_ __

 _ **Ha ha…so anyways…**_

 _ **Thank you all for reading my first Smutfest fic to the end! While I did not use the first prompt for this piece, (see my other short fic entitled Talk Dirty for that), I hope you guys still enjoyed it none the less. Thank you for all the likes and comments and lovely reviews. It really made my day. If you're new to my works and this is the first piece you've read by me, I hope you will continue to follow me if you'd like.**_

 _ **Thank you to The Prince and The Heiress community and the lovely mods who helped organize this event, and also thank you to every single participator who made me being single a living hell for the last week :p**_

 _ **Until next time, friends!**_


End file.
